Editor’s note: This is part of a series on hibakusha who responded to a survey by The Asahi Shimbun, The Chugoku Shimbun and The Nagasaki Shimbun on the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombings.

Ken Nagamachi paid respects to his late mother at 8:15 a.m. on Aug. 6--marking the moment 80 years ago when an atomic bomb detonated over the city of Hiroshima--by offering a silent prayer at his home in the western Tokyo city of Hachioji.

“A time will come when there are no more living hibakusha,” the 63-year-old said before heading to the Hachioji Peace and Atomic Bomb Museum, where he recently joined the staff.

His mother, Yoko, had enclosed the museum’s pamphlet with her responses to questions in a nationwide survey sent to atomic bomb survivors. Her answers were filled in by Nagamachi on her behalf.

The cover of the small vertical color pamphlet featured a photo of a tattered jacket that belonged to her older brother, Takeo Toshima, who perished in the atomic bombing of Hiroshima at the age of 14.

When contacted in May, Nagamachi said Yoko, who was suffering from lung cancer, had died on March 26. She was 91.

During a reporter’s visit to the museum, which was opened in 1997 by hibakusha living in Hachioji, Nagamachi carefully removed his uncle’s school uniform from a storage box.

“It is so thin and tattered,” he said. “I am amazed that it has survived this long. It feels like a miracle.”

The fabric was covered in dirt and stains, with its threads frayed as if scorched. A button on the left breast pocket bore a school insignia.

The trousers appeared to have been slashed, perhaps for emergency first aid. The undershirt was stained brown, likely from discolored blood, with shoulder straps burned and torn.

Toshima was a first-year student at Hiroshima Prefectural Hiroshima Second Junior High School, now called Hiroshima Kanon Senior High School.

On the morning of Aug. 6, 1945, he was mobilized with classmates to help demolish buildings to create fire breaks in preparation for air raids.

The students lined up along the bank of the Honkawa river, which runs through the central part of Hiroshima.

Just about 600 meters from the hypocenter, they were exposed to intense heat, shockwaves and radiation.

All 321 first-year students and four teachers died, most of them on-site.

Toshima, despite severe burns, fled and was reunited with his mother, Toshiko, who had come searching for him, near Koibashi bridge, about 1.5 kilometers away, according to Yoko’s response to the questionnaire.

But he died the following day at the family home in Itsukaichi, now part of Hiroshima.

Toshiko, Nagamachi’s grandmother, wrote to her husband, who was stationed on the front lines in China, to inform him of their son’s death.

“I will keep his belongings so that we never forget his death,” she wrote.

Toshiko died in 1991, and Toshima’s uniform was found by bereaved family members sorting through her belongings.

It was stored at the bottom of a tea chest wrapped in a “furoshiki” cloth. Yoko took possession of her brother’s memento and donated it to the museum, which has been run by volunteers.

Yoko herself was exposed to radiation while helping to care for victims evacuating from the city center. After the war, she became a nurse, saying she wanted to help people like her brother.

Yoko married a fellow hibakusha, a reporter for The Chugoku Shimbun, and moved to Tokyo.

She was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer about a year and a half ago.

When chemotherapy proved ineffective, her doctor asked if she wanted to transition to palliative care.

“I have lived this long, determined to live for my deceased brother, too, so I have no more regrets,” she said.

In late February, while receiving care in a hospice, Yoko completed the hibakusha survey.

Nagamachi visited her regularly and filled out the form while confirming details with her.

About a month after her responses were sent, her health took a sudden turn for the worse.

Nagamachi, a former teacher, now sees himself as having inherited the baton of remembrance from his uncle, grandmother and mother.

Determined to carry on the legacy, he is taking a training course run by the city of Hiroshima to become an “A-Bomb Legacy Successor.”

As a “Hibakusha Family Member Legacy Successor,” he intends to continue to share the story of Takeo’s death in the atomic bombing.

“I do not want Takeo’s death to have been in vain,” he said. “I believe this effort represents not only Takeo’s wish but also that of many students, including those from Hiroshima Second Junior High School, who were mobilized for building demolition and lost their lives.”

About 6,000 boys and girls are estimated to have died in the atomic bombing of Hiroshima after being mobilized for building demolition work.

“As a former teacher myself, I find it unimaginable,” Nagamachi said. “They entered their dream schools only to be deprived of lessons and forced into military drills and demolition work. Not only were their rights to learn taken away, but their very lives as well.

“And their final moments were anything but a humane death. Their human rights were also snatched from them. I feel a deep sense of righteous indignation, and I believe we must never allow such things to happen again.”

Along the Honkawa river near the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park stands a monument for Hiroshima Second Junior High School.

The large horizontal stone, about one meter high and four meters wide, is engraved with the names of the students and teachers who died in the atomic bombing, including Toshima.

At a memorial service held on Aug. 6, attendees observed a moment of silence at 8:15 a.m.