A moment of silence.

For 80 years, Nagasaki has prayed for a nuclear-free world.

At this year's Peace Memorial Ceremony, a certain song was sung for the first time:

"KUSUNOKI," written by Fukuyama Masaharu, a singer from Nagasaki.

The atomic bombing of Nagasaki had a devastating death toll.

Fukuyama's song is about the kusunoki, or camphor trees, that miraculously grew new buds despite being burned in the bombing.

Streetcar wrap of painting by artist junaida, inspired by "KUSUNOKI"

Eleven years after the song's creation...

"KUSUNOKI" is still planting seeds in people's hearts in all kinds of ways.

The song makes us realize how precious our everyday peaceful lives are.

Around 17,000 supporters sang "KUSUNOKI"

In 2025, 80 years after WWII...

Fukuyama decided to perform a new arrangement of "KUSUNOKI" in his hometown of Nagasaki.

Through an NHK music show, he gathered some 5,000 people from across Japan to sing "KUSUNOKI" with their hearts as one.

From Nagasaki to the world, 5,000 souls sang a prayer for peace.

It was a one-night-only moving performance.

In Nagasaki, the site of an atomic bombing, there is a place where people gather to pray for peace.

Sannou Shrine, some 800 meters from ground zero.

Two camphor trees stand tall along the path to the shrine.

Visitors come from Japan and abroad for a glimpse of these trees.

I learned about this place through Mr. Fukuyama's song.

I feel a lot of things, like the aura of the trees.

So it's soothing for me.

I love Japan so I would like to discover Nagasaki and these special trees.

The trees are around 500 to 600 years old.

They've set their roots down on this hill, watching over people's lives throughout the years.

However...

On August 9th, 1945.

A single atomic bomb took the lives of some 74,000 people in Nagasaki.

Sannou Shrine, which was close to ground zero, was devastatingly damaged.

The shrine gate was left with a single pillar,

and the camphor trees were so badly burnt, they were thought to have died.

However, two months later, a miracle occurred.

The camphor trees sprouted new buds, becoming a symbol of hope for people as they worked towards recovery.

Atomic bomb survivor Morita Hiromitsu is one such person with a fondness for these trees.

It's been a while. Hello.

I always touch them like this.

Morita was 10 years old when the bomb dropped.

He was at home, around 1.8 kilometers from ground zero.

Though he managed to escape with his life, the world he saw looked like a painting of Hell itself.

He felt an indescribable sense of injustice.

Their faces didn't look human anymore. No one did.

I felt like there were far better ways to die.

I would've wanted to die a cleaner death.

Everyone's face was a different shape.

After the war, he moved to Tokyo to find work and support his family.

But at times, he would be showered with heartless words due to being a bombing survivor.

There was discrimination, for sure.

Being exposed to the bomb was seen as a bad thing.

Morita found life to be a struggle.

But a turning point came when he returned home 10 years later and visited the A-bombed camphors.

Those battered, barren trees had been all but naked,

but they'd regrown.

Seeing that gave me strength.

I wanted to live like those camphor trees.

To Fukuyama Masaharu, who grew up in Nagasaki, the A-bombed camphors have been a guiding presence in his life.

I came here from time to time in middle school and high school.

When I felt like I didn't belong in this city,

or when I felt irritated at myself, I'd come here.

The camphors made those feelings seem

like they weren't such a big deal.

He would visit his father Akira, a bombing survivor who was fighting cancer, and stop by the shrine on the way home.

Any opportunity he had, he would pay the trees a visit.

The A-bombed camphors became a place where he reexamined his own roots and his hometown of Nagasaki.

In the summer when he was 18, he moved to Tokyo with the dream of one day writing a song about his feelings for Nagasaki.

"When the August sirens pierce through the sky"

Upon his record-label debut, he put those feelings into the lyrics of a song,

but it didn't leave an impression on many people.

In time, he began his rise to stardom.

Yet according to Fukuyama, achieving his goal of putting his roots into a song would take far longer.

Twenty-four years after I decided I wanted to make

a song about this topic,

I was finally able to put out that song.

As someone in rock music,

and as a singer-songwriter who expresses himself by making songs,

I have to bring up social issues.

Or rather, self-expression is something

that emerges because of social issues.

I have a sense of duty that I've given myself.

I'd like to get rid of war,

and live in a society where war no longer existed.

But this Earth, this world, isn't just made up of humanity.

We exist because of nature,

like the oceans and rivers and mountains.

That's why humanity exists.

I wanted to write from the perspective

of something that wasn't human.

So I borrowed the perspective

of a camphor tree that had been A-bombed.

When I did, I had no trouble writing about the topic

I'd always wanted to write.

"My soul has rooted in this land

That will never be decayed and fallen down

I have lived on this hill

Over six hundred years, blown in the wind of the times

Along with the one legged gate of the Shinto shrine broken by the blast wave"

Eleven years after the song was created, its message is still planting seeds of peace in people's hearts.

As a favorite among children, and as an anthem of peace, the song has spread far beyond what Fukuyama himself ever imagined.

Koriyama City, in Fukushima Prefecture.

At this school, "KUSUNOKI" is inspiring students to think about peace.

There's a song about those camphor trees.

It's by a singer from Nagasaki whose father was a bombing survivor.

He wrote a song called "KUSUNOKI."

Let's all listen to it together.

Listening carefully to the song is an important part of the curriculum.

The students are encouraged to unravel the meaning of the lyrics and think of war and peace as affecting them personally.

A song makes the message last.

Young generations don't know the tragedy of war,

so maybe he wanted to convey that with his lyrics.

"KUSUNOKI" makes them realize how precious the peace they take for granted is.

Through today's class, I felt the powerful emotions of Nagasaki's people.

I want to remember that this way of life isn't a given,

and always feel a sense of gratitude for it.

It's been six years since they started teaching about "KUSUNOKI."

The students have started to change.

This student is writing about the future.

"As fellow people living on the Earth, it is necessary for us to coexist."

"Instead of treating other countries with indifference,

Japan has a duty it should fulfill because of the painful experience it has been through."

The student has written about taking a small step towards peace.

With just regular teaching materials,

the lesson might not stay with them afterwards.

But with Mr. Fukuyama's song, the message doesn't fade.

The children realize for themselves how important it is

that they empathize with Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

As "KUSUNOKI" reaches more people in various ways, Fukuyama himself has embarked on a new challenge.

I'd like a bit more of a gap here.

The song was originally performed using piano and guitar.

He's added strings and a choir to give it new life as a song everyone can sing together as one.

It's titled: "KUSUNOKI -Blowing in the Wind of 500 Years-."

Perfect.

I originally pictured quietly reflecting on a camphor tree

when I gave the song its sound.

I never imagined singing it together with everyone.

Now lots of people can gather in a huge choir

and sing this song as one.

I can fill this song with the feelings of lots of people

and share it far and wide again.

Even I'm amazed.

As the person who wrote this song, it's a wonderful feeling

for it to be given another chance like this.

August 9, 2025 would mark 80 years from the atomic bombing.

Through an NHK music show, Fukuyama invited people nationwide to join him in sending his song from Nagasaki to the world.

"KUSUNOKI" is a song about a tree that survived the bombing.

I look forward to singing it with everyone in my hometown of Nagasaki.

One month before the performance.

Young singers have gathered who will share the stage with Fukuyama.

From high school students to graduates, these 200 or so people sing in choirs throughout Nagasaki prefecture.

They'll play an important role leading a huge choir of nearly 5,000 people.

It's a rare opportunity. I can't wait.

I've never heard a harmony like this. I'm excited to sing it.

The group is instructed by musician Inoue Akira, who arranged the song together with Fukuyama.

To explain why we've gathered you all here,

there will be far more people singing.

We want you to influence that bigger crowd of people.

As expected, these confident young singers are able to harmonize with each other right from the start.

However...

I want to make it even better.

If it was just you, that performance would be perfect.

But the score can't convey everything.

It would be wonderful if you could express the music

while breathing in time with Mr. Fukuyama.

He's given them a difficult task that the average choir doesn't ask for.

There's a pause before the last word.

"My soul would never have been... disrupted"

He lingers on the start of the last word.

This part's tough!

Choirs usually perform using sheet music that has more directions on it.

This doesn't have any, so they're probably at a loss.

If I tell them what to do in detail,

they won't be able to express themselves freely.

So it's great to be able to do things this way.

Another instructor, Tanaka Yukiko, has them rehearse in an unusual way.

One, two...

"My soul would never have been disrupted"

She has them read the lyrics aloud in order to grasp the emotions of the song.

"The soul will keep singing in the wind"

Sounds like a computer, right?

You can be a bit earlier or a bit later.

The song might have sad lyrics about a sad topic,

but it isn't sad, because the tree survived.

It's more hopeful, so I want to hear each and every one of your hearts.

Not your singing. Your singing follows your heart.

The young singers practice diligently without a moment's pause.

Will they be able to make 5,000 people's hearts sound together as one?

On the day of August 9th...

From early in the morning, prayers were offered up throughout the land.

People grieving the victims of the bombing have been an unchanging part of Nagasaki's scenery for 80 years.

The Peace Memorial Ceremony was attended by ambassadors and representatives from 94 countries and regions.

Representatives were also seen from Russia, Israel, and Palestine.

A moment of silence.

For the first time, Fukuyama Masaharu's "KUSUNOKI" was sung at the ceremony by a choir of nearly 100 children.

"My soul has rooted in this land

That will never be decayed and fallen down

Along with the one legged gate of the Shinto shrine broken by the blast wave

I have seen humans' life, joys, and sorrows going through

My soul would never have been disrupted

Even once my trunk was broken and burned"

At 3 PM...

Please walk slowly.

The participants have started to arrive.

They've been looking forward to performing with Fukuyama.

From Hokkaido in the north to Okinawa in the south, about 5,000 people have gathered from across Japan.

They were selected from over 40,000 applicants.

- We practiced every day.
- Morning, noon, night, and before bed.

I heard a bit of them rehearsing the song,

and it got me excited for the performance.

She went to a bomb shelter at age two. She really went through a lot.

This will really bring locals and people from outside Nagasaki together as one.

In contrast to the calm atmosphere in the seats, the mood backstage is much more tense.

These are the 200 young singers entrusted with the important role of leading 5,000 people.

I'm getting nervous!

Both excited and nervous.

At 5:30 PM, it's finally time to go on stage.

I started choir three months ago.

And now "this" is my first performance...

Thank you.

Let's all do our best!

Fukuyama himself also joins the 5,000 participants.

Here's Fukuyama Masaharu!

As the performance draws near, everyone in the arena begins to look nervous.

You'll feel a certain energy when the performance starts.

And more than anything, the music itself will guide us.

All that's left is to do it.

The moment has finally come.

"My soul has rooted in this land

That will never be decayed and fallen down

I have lived on this hill

Over six hundred years, blown in the wind of the times

Along with the one legged gate of the Shinto shrine broken by the blast wave

I have seen humans' life, joys, and sorrows going through

My soul would never have been disrupted

Even once my trunk was broken and burned

Blowing in the gentle wind and blast wave

Being exposed to the early summer rain and black rain,

I have reached up to the sky

My soul has rooted in this land

The soul will keep singing in the wind

My soul roots in this land

That will never be decayed and fallen down

My soul would never have been disrupted

Even once my trunk was broken and burned

My soul has rooted in this land

The soul will keep singing in the wind"

We were able to join together through music

and broadcast this program today

because peace made this day and moment possible.

To the 5,000 people gathered here, and to everyone involved,

thank you so much!

5,000 people pulled off an incredible performance.

However, the show isn't over yet.

They'll perform one more song, conveying hope for tomorrow with their entire bodies.

"I've got a song I want you to hear

There are words I've always wanted to say

They're nothing special

No, they're not difficult at all

I was just spreading out a map, waiting for the wind

Without an answer

I'm heading out now to a world beyond imagination

Beyond myself

Now, let's take flight

You, only you showed me

That there's a longing that never fades

So I must go, for instead of goodbye

You gave me this courage to go on

I was just standing in the rain, waiting for a rainbow

Without a doubt

I'm heading out now to a world beyond imagination

Beyond the sky

With these wings

One day when I can fly past the wind

One day when I can finally catch a rainbow

Will you smile for me?

Will we meet again?

I was just spreading out a map, waiting for the wind

Without an answer

I'm heading out now to a world beyond imagination

Beyond myself

I was just standing in the rain, waiting for a rainbow

Without a doubt

I'm heading out now to a world beyond imagination

Into your sky

Into my rainbow

I'm taking flight"

Thank you!

To be able to sing "KUSUNOKI" in Nagasaki on August 9th

together with 5,000 people was a truly moving experience.

There were over 40,000 applicants.

You were selected from them.

Rather than simply wanting to participate in a TV program,

I imagine you felt a desire

to treat the life you lead with care.

You've probably been searching all this time

for something to take part in

to preserve the everyday life you lead now.

That's probably always been in your heart.

The desire each of you have

to care for and protect the humble lives you lead

came through in your voices today.

Those voices reached people all throughout Japan,

and probably moved them to tears.

Thank you for taking part in this.

80 years after the war,

there are fewer and fewer people who can talk about what the bombing was like.

So passing that on to the next generation through a song

was an experience I'll never forget.

We visited the camphor trees,

learned about their history,

and touched them for ourselves.

So when we sang that song today,

I was filled with so much emotion, it moved me to tears.

Peace is something fragile

that can easily disappear.

We have to live our lives in a way that doesn't take it for granted.

Things don't always go how we want in our lives.

But we should think about the meaning of being alive,

and keep moving forward even a little each day

while treating the people around us with care.

That's how I want to live.

Our parents and grandparents went through hard times 80 years ago,

but they did their best to survive,

and watched over us like the camphor trees.

That's why we're here now.

I want to make this song the anthem of my life from now on.

I thought singing was fun for the first time.

Everyone slowly got better at singing as they sang.

Because of that, I realized how fun it is to be in a choir.

This performance wouldn't have been possible without each and every person.

It reminded me how important we all are,

and that I belong here.

Singing this song made me feel even more strongly about peace.

More than ever, I want us to pass on

the feelings of Nagasaki to future generations.

Together with the camphor trees, 5,000 souls sang a prayer for peace.

That song gave people the courage to take a new step forward.