Since no one is willing to download from link in parenthesis (https://depfile.com/tE8YKdH), I decided to just upload the book here. Discussions can be found here:
In her twelfth spring…
To her eternal love,
Misa Hayase: White Reminiscences
By Hiroshi Ohnogi
Illustrations: Haruhiko Mikimoto
Planning: Shoji Kawamori
Table of Contents
Translation by Gubaba
The irritated footsteps inside of the room came and went. Takashi Hayase looked at the
clock once again. The appointed time has already passed. Hayase held the pipe in his
mouth again, even though it had gone out some time before. The meal on the table had
This person was not just an Admiral in the UN Forces, he was also the father of a solitary daughter.
“I apologize for taking so long.”
Misa had arrived at last.
…but it’s all right, he started to say, but the words stuck in the back of his throat.
Misa stood at the doorway wearing a long-sleeved kimono, which had been ordered
specially for this day. Her long hair was arranged carefully, and her cheeks even showed a faint hint of red.
“Please don’t look at me like that, Father.”
She hid her embarrassed face with the kimono, and the collar dropped, exposing the nape of her white neck.
“Please don’t be embarrassed. I’m just surprised at how lovely you look.”
After he said that, the Admiral gestured for Misa to take a chair, and then he sat down opposite her. Although it was the first meal the two of them had had together in a long time, neither of them touched their chopsticks.
Time passed silently. In the space between them, there was only the feeling between
parent and child. How long had it been since they had sat face to face, speaking earnestly
to each other?
“You’ve gotten bigger, too.” Her father said, then opened his mouth.
“I wish you could show your mother how beautiful her daughter has become.”
A tiny surge of anger began to well up in Misa’s heart.
His eyes felt hot with approaching tears, but he shook his head ward them off. “Well,” he said, “the food will get cold if we don’t eat it, so we should start, don’t you think?”
“I would hate,” she said, “to get food on this precious kimono…” She started to stand
up, but her father stopped her.
“It doesn’t matter. If it gets dirty, we can always wash it. Please sit down.”
Saying nothing to her father, she sat down again.
“This was all set up specially for today.”
Her father yanked the cork out of the wine bottle, and poured some first into Misa’s glass, and then into his own.
“Happy birthday Misa. You’re an adult now.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Their glasses made a clear ringing as they clinked them together.
Her father downed his glass in one swallow. Misa also drank hers in one gulp. Wine’s characteristic perfume struck her nose, and the sour taste filled her mouth.
A smile of satisfaction spread across her face.
“You look like you also know the taste of wine very well.”
“A little. But it’s been so long that I didn’t think it would taste this good.”
The two of them smiled slightly.
Then they began to eat. There was no enthusiasm, they just silently put the food into
their mouths. But even though they didn’t speak, there was a warmth to the scene. And
that was enough.
Besides, there was nothing to talk about. Now as before, their conversation revolved solely around military matters, and so any talk now could only be about the war against the Zentradi, and their views on that subject were violently opposed to each other.
Because of that, the atmosphere slowly became strained. Misa’s hand reached for her
wine glass involuntarily. Her earlobes and the space under her eyes were turning faintly reddish.
She felt a tap on her shoulder, and swiveled around to see Claudia standing beside her.
“Claudia,” she gasped, “what are you doing here?”
“What a thing to say! This is your birthday party, isn’t it?”
Misa nodded with a baffled look, and Claudia handed her a large bouquet of flowers.
“Happy birthday,” Claudia said with a laugh, flashing her white teeth. “You’re twenty years old. Now you really are an old lady!”
“Happy birthday, Hayase.”
“Captain Global! And everyone!”
All of the principal crewmembers of the Macross were gathered there: Captain Global,
the three bridge operators, even Max and Milia, all together.
“Captain, this is my wife, Milia,” said Max, introducing her.
Misa said, “Thanks to the two of you, we know that humans and Zentradi can become allies.. You are the mediators.”
Upon hearing her name called, she turned; and he was standing there. His cheeks were a little flushed, his breath ragged. He must have run here. Memories welled up inside Misa.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Hikaru, bowing his head.
“It’s just like you not to show up on time,” she said, but was merely poking fun. Her true thoughts were different: Ah, I don’t want to say this, but if you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy myself…
“That kimono looks wonderful on you.”
Does it really suit me? Even if you don’t mean it, it makes me happy. But those words were only spoken in her heart. They didn’t come out of her mouth or show up on her face.
“Really, it does,” he continued. “Oh! Um…here.” Hikaru pulled a small box tied with a ribbon out of his pocket. “I’m sorry. It’s a pretty dull present.”
“Huh. I wonder what it could be?” She put out her hand and took the gift. And then…
“Misa, are you all right?” She felt someone shaking her shoulder and she came to, to see her father’s worried face peering at her.
“Where am I?” She looked around, confused. Everyone was gone; not even Claudia’s bouquet was here. And Hikaru was gone, too. It had all been a dream. An empty daydream. And it merely crumbled away.
“Are you all right? Your face is rather pale.”
“I’m fine. I just had a little too much wine, most likely.”
“It’s all because I pushed you to have more. Would you like to go to the doctor’s office?”
“No thanks. I’m fine, really.”
“If you say so.” Misa’s father gave a slight nod, but he still looked concerned. Little by little, Misa extracted herself from the afterglow of her dream. Suddenly, she noticed a small box behind her wine glass, and it looked exactly like the one Hikaru had given her in her dream. Misa picked it up.
“This was the best I could find at UN High Command. They don’t have much there.”
“Oh, it’s all right. Anyway, it feels like it’s been ages since I’ve gotten a present from you, sir. Is it okay if I open it?”
“Be my guest.”
Inside the box was a tube of lipstick. It seemed a little too feminine, but it must at least be expressing one of her father’s wishes. She held the lipstick in her palm and closed her hand around it. She felt her father’s hopes being conveyed to her through the feeling of the cold metal.
“Thank you, sir,” she said. “I’ll be sure to wear it tomorrow.”
“Well, I’ll be. Does this mean you’ll be seeing someone special?”
For a moment, she had difficulty grasping what he meant. It seemed like a simple question between father and daughter. But before long, it sunk in.
The problem was that, as far as Misa was concerned, it was unanswerable. Her emotions were still wavering. A gap between the man in the sky and the man beyond the sky… She didn’t know her own feelings yet.
“There’s no one like that.” The words popped spontaneously out of her mouth, surprising even her.
The Admiral’s shoulders drooped in disappointment. “The sooner you find someone,
the sooner I can rest easy,” he said.
“Of course. But I’ve got pretty high standards.” Thoughts whirled about in her head endlessly, and nothing but meaningless words dropped from her mouth. Her mind was preoccupied with the question. She wanted to flee, but it was inescapable. The dead and the living. Her heart was torn between a man who was dead and a man who was alive. And she had no mercy for herself.
Who wilt thou show thy blackened teeth to,
Who wilt thou show thy blackened teeth to…?
[TN (Translator's note): A line from the Kabuki play Musume Dojoji. Prior to the 19th century, Japanese aristocratic women and daughters of military officers dyed their teeth black when they got married.]
At the same time Misa was worrying about this, another being was worried about his resolution, decided upon in the darkness.
Darkness. Bodolzaa stood in his black robe. After long consideration, he had finally decided to completely destroy the Protoculture, going against their directive not to interfere with them. However, even in compliance with the command, all the soldiers had come into contact with the Protoculture, and had thus been contaminated by it. With a look of great suffering on his face, he gave his orders. Immediately, all the troops under his command started to mass their fleets, numbering more than 5.1 million ships. It was certainly more than enough to destroy a single, small world, and yet Bodolzaa remained uneasy.
He had decided on an unfathomable course: the doom of mankind.
(I added the rest from Page 12 to complete the paragraph.)
>>(I added the rest from Page 13 to complete the paragraph.)
And, AD 2009. That fateful February Twenty-First.
(TN: The date given doesn’t correspond to the timeline of the TV series. It should be late
That day, the weather around UN High Command in Alaska was tranquil. The weak sunlight shone brilliantly off the permafrost. There was no wind, and as the afternoon crept closer, the temperature rose. The people who had been underground emerged onto the surface, and felt the long-absent rays of the sun shower their bodies, and warm their pale skin.
Snow fell softly from the blue sky. Then, suddenly, even though it was midday, stars
began shining. Not just one, but hundreds, even thousands. The people gaped, wide-eyed, at them.
The star clusters that afternoon were the ships that would administer death. They had crossed thousands of light years of emptiness and void for this sole purpose: the destruction of earth.
That, and that alone, was their, the Zentradi’s, only goal.
The lights in the sky momentarily flashed more brightly; the people who had been
looking at the sky squinted up, and were gone. Even people who didn’t know about the afternoon stars, each in their rooms, each in the midst of their day, were turned to dust.
Annihilation. Decimation. Ruin. Slaughter... Whatever one called it, it was merely a
Involuntarily, these same words fell from Misa’s lips, but she couldn’t grasp the reality of the situation. Monitors set up in every major city showed what was happening, and it was the same everywhere. Tokyo, New York, Beijing, Moscow… Nothing but desolation. What had just a moment before been individual cities teeming with millions of people became uniform, blasted plains. As Misa watched, she imagined the destruction spreading across the entire surface of the planet. And although the image was vague, she sat petrified.
“It can’t be!” she cried out, trembling as her mind filled with visions. And crying out, she came back to herself. Her words echoed off the walls of the empty operation room, and stood out against the stillness.
Admiral Hayase, meanwhile, had no time for shock. “Is the Grand Cannon secure?” he demanded.
“We’re having some difficulties with the power generator, but we should be able to fire it.”
“Very good. Recommence count down at once.”
Everyone at UN Forces High Command jumped at the noise of the power generator working. The enormous power grew to a roar. Inside the Grand Cannon, 800 meters in diameter, five kilometers in height, innumerable particles of light started whirling and dancing madly. Then the light fused, and one kilometer of bedrock spread upwards, swelling and being carried by the light.
“Grand Cannon energy level has reached critical mass!” an aide reported.
“Very good. Continue the count,” commanded Admiral Hayase, closing his eyes. A scant few seconds, and everything would be decided. The earth had just been destroyed, completely ruined, and yet there was still a slim chance of hope. A few seconds more. Would he ever see his beloved daughter Misa again? A few seconds more. Would he himself even survive? And more seconds.
My daughter was right, he thought, but then hurriedly pushed the idea away.
“Three, two, one, zero!” The aide completed the countdown. That instant, the energy accumulated six kilometers underground gathered in a huge bundle of light, and then
erupted. It reached the ozone layer, then punched through it, cutting the air, carrying all
the wishes of the few survivors on the planet into space.
It reached the Zentradi fleet. Even the stars paled before the intense light, Earth’s final
retaliation. After the light faded, nothing was left. In an instant, tens of thousands of ships, and millions of lives, had been vaporized. A five-second massacre. And that five-second
counterattack had been all that humanity was capable of. Despite more than two million years of progress and history, this was the best they could do. At once, the remaining Zentradi ships brought their cannons to bear on Alaska.
UN High Command fired another blast of light from the Grand Cannon. The beam volleyed into the sky and the barrel of the Cannon was enveloped in an opaque white. The six-kilometer barrel stood briefly against the pressure, then collapsed.
“Area A-4, please respond,” Misa cried, her voice echoing uselessly through the half-destroyed operation room. She was all alone. Just a moment before, there had been at least a dozen operators hailing from each area, but after the dull thud of the impact, everything was blanketed in silence.
(Rest of final paragraph from the next page added for completion.)
Miraculously, Misa alone had survived, although her shoulder was injured from some rubble falling on it. She looked around, but couldn’t see any of her colleagues. She felt like she shouldn’t look, like some thing’s glistening fangs were slavering eagerly for her. And as soon as she met the thing’s eyes, it would lunge at her and rip out her throat. She
couldn’t see it, but the stink of blood dripping from the thing’s fangs drifted to her nostrils. She could hear it licking its lips and growling with a low rumble.
“Area A-4, please respond! Area A-4!” she continued to call. Even as she did so, she began to feel a chill up her spine. There was no response from Area A-4. The other areas were likewise silent. She felt the uneasiness of a child playing hide-and-seek, who counts to a hundred and uncovers his eyes to find everyone gone. And finding herself suddenly alone, her shoulders sagged with loneliness. And then, through the static of the headphones, she thought she heard a voice. In her solitude, she dismissed it as a hallucination…but then, the hallucination called her name.
It was her father’s familiar voice. And it wasn’t just an auditory hallucination, his image was there as well. Even though she couldn’t catch much clearly through all the static and noise, it was undoubtedly her father. Was this also just an illusion?
“Misa! You’re still there?” spoke the illusion. No…not an illusion, it was her father’s real voice. She was amazed that her father was still alive.
“What about you, Admiral?” Despite the happiness she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to call him “Father.” What, she thought, even at a time like this, I’m holding back?
“It’s a lost cause here,” the Admiral said. “Get out of here and save yourself!” Then all the background faded until she could no longer hear it. “What?” she cried out, leaning forward. “Father!” Any antipathy she had felt towards him evaporated, and at long last she was truly speaking to him. Then her father’s image reappeared on the monitor, clearer than before. Misa could see that the Admiral’s room had sustained critical damage.
“Maybe,” he said, “you were right after all.”
Those were to be his final words. There was a sudden explosion, and the screen went white. His form vanished.
“Father!” Misa called out, again and again. Her voice became a croaking sob, and she sank into misery. Hopeless loneliness shrouded her, and her tears streamed down her cheeks. She leaned against the wall and licked her lips.
The tears flooded into her heart, swelling into a sea of sorrow. The sea was roiling and storm-tossed, and the crystallized misery sank to the bottom, where it began to melt. It dissolved into memories of sadness, taking her back to her past.
“Why did I become a soldier?” she cried out. “If I hadn’t, I never would’ve had such sadness in my life!”
The sound of clinking glass. People’s mellifluous voices. Today, the usually quiet Hayase residence in Aoyama was almost raucous. Dishes piled high with fine food were
laid out before dozens of guests, and glasses overflowing with wine were passed back and forth. The mansion was crowded with people dressed in their finest formal wear.
In July of 1999, a giant meteorite had split the sky and fallen to earth. The shock waves caused by its fall had demolished many cities and had killed multitudes. Soon after the meteorite had crashed on South Ataria Island, a research team was dispatched to investigate it. Their initial report created an even greater impact to the world than the shock waves from the object’s descent. A single copy of the report was all it took to cause a tremble of fear to run through all the inhabitants of earth.
It turned out to be a massive space ship, which became known as the Alien Star Ship One, or A.S.S. 1 for short. The people of earth quickly learned that they were not the only life in the universe. Moreover, the ship was made for battle. Thus, even in space, war was being waged. And the level of technology used by whatever species created the starship far outstripped that of the humanity.
People pushed for unification of the governments of earth. What had been thought to be empty void ruled by silence was transformed instantly into a universe overflowing with menace. Because of predictions of difficulty in communicating with aliens, a global defense system was demanded. Individual countries couldn’t accomplish this, and so a unified government was required.
Of course, before that could happen, some countries’ egos stood in the way, because of barriers between the cultures and races of humanity. In some areas, small-scale conflicts erupted, and before long, the entire world was engulfed in the fires of war. People called this “the Unification Wars.”
Pic in >>13754234 is Misa and Riber's first meeting.
But once the giant cogs started turning, it was in no one’s power to stop them. By and by, each nation disappeared, and all were joined together under a united banner.
When Japan changed from a nation to an “Autonomous Region,” the UN Forces Command Center for the Asian territories was set up in the outskirts of Tokyo. And the finest soldiers from every Autonomous Region were selected to create a truly global military unit.
And on this day, there was a party – a small one – at the Hayase Residence, one being thrown for the new unit so that everyone could get acquainted. People from all over the world were gathered there, and all of them were doing as they pleased. There was plenty of liquor and food, which helped fuel conversation. Throats dry from laughter were wetted with alcohol, and food barely reached the guests’ stomachs before they were drinking more. Voices cried out toast after toast, while other voices, tinged with drunkenness, laughed.
And in this bustling party, one little girl ran through the crowd. She was wearing a very grown-up dress, which didn’t suit her at all. But more childlike clothes wouldn’t look very good on her either. She was in that instant of time between being a young girl and a young woman. This clever and pretty girl was the blossom of the party. She was the type of girl that nobody could look at without feeling affection. And, with her childish sensitivity, she knew it.
She was playing tag with a few younger children, and seeing her at play brought smiles to the faces of any onlookers.
“Over here! Here!” the girl cried as she weaved through the guests. But then she ran right into the back of a boy who had been too involved in conversation to notice her. The glass in his hand jostled, and juice sloshed out of it, drenching his sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” gasped the girl. She bowed her head, realizing her blunder. Her action brought the harmonious party to an abrupt halt.
“Don’t worry about it, Miss,” the boy said. Hearing the warmth in his voice, the girl
timidly lifted her eyes. The boy was looking down at her, a big smile on his face. Although he seemed to be nearing adulthood, she noted that his face still retained something cherubic about it. And he, for his part noticed the deep intelligence in her eyes. They spent a moment just staring at each other.
“I’m really, really sorry,” the girl repeated. She pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping the young man’s sleeve. Through the handkerchief and the cloth, she could feel his not yet mature arm.
Suddenly the party’s host, the Commodore, rushed up. “Misa!” he scolded, “Do you mind telling me what this galloping around the room is all about?”
“I’m sorry, Father,” replied the girl.
“Apologizing to me won’t solve anything,” said the Commodore.
“It’s perfectly all right,” said the boy, seeing the girl’s distress. “This shirt is overdue for cleaning anyway.” Yes, the girl had made a mistake, but the boy, remembering his own adolescence, knew that she was already wallowing in self-recrimination, and it didn’t need to continue. But it looked like the Commodore wasn’t through scolding her.
“Everyone is enjoying themselves at this party, and then you start flying around the room. It’s immature.”
Misa’s head drooped low, her earlier cheerfulness having fled. The boy understood that to a girl her age, the word “immature” was humiliating. “Please, Commodore Hayase,” he said, “It’s all right, isn’t it? She didn’t do it maliciously, after all.”
Then a stern-faced soldier approached. He was about two heads taller than the Commodore, with broad shoulders and arms as big around as Misa’s waist. “I apologize for his terrible behavior,” the soldier said, patting the young man on the shoulder. “He should have been able to get out of the Young Miss’s way.” The pat looked light enough, but it sent the boy staggering back two or three steps.
“Is this your son?” the Host ventured cautiously.
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that,” said the soldier with a loud laugh, “even if he’s unworthy of the family name.” They looked nothing alike, the bluff and hearty father and the slim, almost feminine son. They say that even a hawk can give birth to a dove, or a dove to a hawk… Of course, Commodore Hayase had been able to tell.
“Misa, I’d like to introduce Commander Herbert Von Fruhling. You’ve never met him before, but he’s an old friend of mine.”
“Oh Commodore, you can dispense with the ‘Von,’” the Commander said. “Our Brave New World has thrown out all those titles of the aristocracy.”
Herbert drew closer to Misa and bowed down to shake her hand. Her hand was enveloped completely by his up to the wrist, and her eyes widened at how huge it was.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Little Miss,” He said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, sir. I’m Misa Hayase,” the girl replied, her face breaking into her most radiant smile. Herbert responded with a wide grin of his own. Then, although his smile didn’t change, his eyes softened and became even more kind.
“And this fella,” he said, shaking the young man’s shoulder, “is my son, Riber. But I guess you two’ve already met.”
Riber’s face reddened in embarrassment.
“And what do you do?” asked the host.
Riber straightened himself as he answered. “I’m a student at military academy.”
“Oh, no need to get formal,” smiled Commodore Hayase. “It’s a party. Put your feet up
Just then, a server bearing a tray of glasses walked past. The Commodore nimbly grabbed three glasses, and passed two of them to Herbert and Riber.
“Oh, he’s still underage,” said Herbert. He moved to take Riber’s glass, but the Commodore stopped him.
“It’s all right, isn’t it? How old are you?”
“He’s still just a kid,” Herbert replied.
“I’m not asking you, I’m talking to Riber here.”
“I’m seventeen, sir,” Riber said.
“Seventeen and a strapping adult.” The host slapped Riber on the shoulder. “But you need to build up some strength in those shoulders. And from today, you can forget about formalities.” So saying, he clinked his glass lightly against Riber’s, and then downed his drink in one gulp. Riber stared for a moment at the champagne bubbling in his glass. Then, as though making a momentous decision, he took a deep swig. The stink of alcohol-tainted breath hovered around Misa. Why, she wondered, did adults seem to think that it tasted so good?