On March 11, 2011 one of the worst nuclear disasters in history occurred, yet more than a decade later, the still heavily contaminated region seems to be rebuilding itself. The Japanese government plans to relaunch its nuclear programme. This documentary takes place against a backdrop of tacit societal consent, where a dramatic event seems to be fading into oblivion. Fukushima may inspire post-apocalyptic fantasies in aesthetes, but the reality behind it is quite different. The accident has dissolved into the plants and the soil, becoming invisible. This film does not offer yet another view of the last survivors living in contaminated areas but takes the opposite approach years later and invites us to observe the reconstruction and the strange acceptance of life in a polluted space, whatever the cost. Even if it means ignoring invisible radioactivity, because after all, we shouldn't be radiophobic. Behind this lies a question about why we persist in a path that leads us to ruin when all the signs are telling us to take the opposite decisions. Japan stands out in this regard. A land of natural disasters, it is a lighthouse that illuminates the path we are willing to follow in order to maintain our world of hyper-consumption. These choices made by governments affect the populations who suffer the consequences. And yet these same populations, without being fooled, put up with the worst situations into which they are plunged. This sociology of disaster, once translated into our cinematic language, offers a whole range of possibilities that the film explores.