IKEDA, Osaka Prefecture—Norihiro Hongo has sometimes broken down with emotion in his many public speeches about school safety, but his most heart-felt words are reserved for a photo at his home in Osaka Prefecture.

“This is interesting, isn’t it?” he says to the picture. “This is a song you love.”

The photo is of his daughter, Yuki, who was among eight pupils killed in a stabbing rampage on June 8, 2001, at Ikeda Elementary School, which is affiliated with Osaka Kyoiku University.

Hongo, 56, says not a single day has passed in the past 20 years without him thinking of Yuki, who was 7 years old when she died.

A desk and school bag remain in her room as she left them when she headed for school for the last time.

Just after 10 a.m. that day, Mamoru Takuma, then 37, stormed the school and stabbed and slashed children with two kitchen knives.

Seven female second-graders and one first-grade boy were killed in the attack. Thirteen other children and two teachers were injured, some of them seriously.

Takuma was found guilty of the murders and was executed in September 2004.

In a memorial service marking the 20th anniversary of the attack on June 8, bereaved families, as well as children and teachers at the school, gathered in front of a monument dedicated to the victims and offered a silent tribute.

In his address, Takumi Sanada, principal of the school, said, “For you, the children who died in the attack, Ikeda Elementary School that you loved will vow to continue efforts to serve as a place where children can learn with a sense of safety and security, working with other schools in Japan and the world.”

Three six-graders representing all children at the school gave a pledge to live their lives to the fullest in honor of the victims.

The rampage prompted a nationwide movement to overhaul measures to ensure children were protected from intruders at their schools.

In 2003, the central government and the school, in a statement of mutual agreement with bereaved families, admitted that school officials’ safety management was insufficient and apologized.

The death of Yuki spurred Hongo to speak at gatherings about the preciousness of life and the importance of the safety management at schools.

His speech engagements began around 2004, when he received a request through a junior chamber that he belonged to at the time.

“We should build a safe and secure society to prevent a recurrence of the tragedy,” he said he thought to himself when deciding to take up that role. “Making efforts toward that goal may become a legacy of Yuki’s existence.”

Hongo has given speeches about the subject at nearly 150 gatherings organized by local government officials, police, support groups for crime victims, and doctors.

On some occasions, he finds himself at a loss for words after being overwhelmed with emotion and his sense of duty to convey the message from the bottom of his heart.

Hongo said after the sessions are over, he feels heavy with nothing left inside of him.

But he has never declined a request to speak before an audience.

“I know Yuki did her best despite the enormous pain until the last moment of trying to make it,” he said. “I should not run away from a request just because it is painful to revisit that day and share my thoughts.”

Instead of dwelling of that day 20 years ago, Hongo said he imagines what his daughter would have looked like for each rite of passage, such as school entrance and graduation ceremonies.

On her 20th birthday on March 1, he bought wine to celebrate her coming-of-age ceremony.

This year, on her 27th birthday, he prepared an apple pie, one of her favorites, with candles atop in the shape of 27.