A sentimental documentation of the abandoned spaces of Nagashima Island and of Nagashima Aisei-en and Komyo-en, the sanatoriums where people with Hansen's disease were quarantined away from the rest of Japan. Atsushi Fujiwara first visited the island at the age of eight, to see an uncle who was general manager of the island's sanatorium, and returned 35 years later, when he came across a poem by the pre-war poet Kaijin Akashi, one of those quarantined on Nagashima. Fujiwara photographs the traces of life once lived by the inhabitants with delicate intimacy: empty rooms, buildings and spaces overgrown with plants, reflecting memories and familiar spaces from both the poet's past and the photographer's own. The book also quotes a poem by Akashi in which, cut off from the human world and severed from the bounds of the flesh, he came to understand the world and to trust love, and when his sight was taken saw lush mountains and lofty clouds rise before his mind's eye, leprosy being a divine revelation as well.