Harumi, the freckle-faced daughter of Keiko Kuromura and niece of Shusaku Hojo, grows up in wartime Kure, where her cheerful presence brightens the strained household. She forges an instant connection with Suzu upon her arrival, bonding over sketches of warships patrolling the harbor—a passion nurtured by her absent older brother Hisao, whose naval teachings linger despite their separation.

Amid rationing and air-raid drills, Harumi’s dream of sailing the seas clashes with the reality of bomb-scarred skies. During one fateful errand to collect rations, a delayed explosion claims her life and severs Suzu’s hand, fracturing the family as Keiko’s grief curdles into resentment.

Her absence reverberates through daily rituals—abandoned drawings, unchoreographed games, silent dinners—deepening Suzu’s isolation until their shared loss becomes a bridge toward healing. Extended accounts highlight mundane yet poignant moments: mending nets while inventing sea adventures, tracing ship silhouettes on fogged windows, laughing through chores. These fragments cement her legacy as both casualty and connective thread, her unrealized aspirations mirroring Kure’s own transformation under fire.