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« Last post by Daitō on April 12, 2024, 06:50:50 PM »
The Flight of Justice
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
August 29th, 1945
11:56 AM
Early in the morning, as had been the case nearly uninterrupted for just shy of six years, the local chapter of the tonarigumi had distributed its circular to the residents of Hiroioki, as similar chapters had done across the nation. It was a practice for which Yuna had been well-accustomed to, even if today’s edition was rather different. Usually, it was multiple pages, filled with work assignments, the news, tips for everyday chores, and a fair bit of wartime propaganda. But when it came in today, it was very different. A single paper, a single message. ”There will be an important radio broadcast at noon today.” it said, which was frankly quite unusual. It didn’t even specify a station, so it must’ve been important enough that it was gonna be on all of ‘em. Maybe it was about the fighting down south? After all, there’d been a report last night that the Amami Islands—or rather, the Satsunan Islands as the news had referred to them by—had been liberated, but surely they weren’t just repeating old news, right?
She later learned that it was a broadcast by His Imperial Majesty himself.
At just shy of 11:58, a voice came over the radio asking that everyone remain at attention for an important announcement. It was just the five of them in the house; Yuna, Azumi, Natsumi, Iwao’s aunt, and Mrs. Fukumori, whose own radio was presently broken. All of them sat in silence as, through the static, the national anthem was played. Its words, though written in the praise of the Emperor, were such that they stirred the emotions of those who listened, who knew the song by heart as instructed since their earliest years. Indeed, it was one of the first songs Yuna had learned to sing, as had been the case for most everyone born after the honorable restoration, and today, it reminded her of all the struggles they had been through.
At noon, a man began to speak, though his words seemed archaic and somewhat hard to hear. It took a few moments for it to click in, but she soon realized that this was Emperor Kunan, the very same man whom her father had met twice before. The first time was long, long ago, back before she had been born. Back then, he was merely a Prince, seventeen years of age, when the Emperor had bestowed upon her father the Golden Kite. The second was a few weeks ago, when he was summoned to Shinkyo to report on the damage sustained in Kyūre and surrounding towns, most especially to the various arsenals in the region. Yet what she was struck by most of all wasn’t that he was speaking to the nation, but that he seemed so… ordinary, at least in terms of his voice. But what mattered was not his voice, however normal it sounded, but rather what he was saying.
”...obtaining within our empire today, we have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation…” he said, and it was clear he took no pleasure in doing this. It continued for some time, even though it was often hard to understand. ”...it is according to the dictates of time and fate that We have resolved to pave the way for a grand peace for all the generations to come by enduring the unendurable and suffering what is insufferable.” The broadcast continued, but eventually, it would have to come to an end. ”...Cultivate the ways of rectitude, foster nobility of spirit, and work with resolution–so that you may enhance the innate glory of the imperial state and keep pace with the progress of the world.” The Emperor said, and then the broadcast ended, though not without a presenter restating that the broadcast had been by him.
“I guess that means…” Hiroyo said after a moment. Yuna, for her part, was silent, still processing what had been said on the radio mere moments ago. She felt as though a well of emotions had just been opened up, feelings she had bottled up not simply since last month, but for longer still.
“We… We lost the war, didn’t we?” Asked Kyoko. Why did she have to say that? Yuna grit her teeth and gripped her dress as it finally set in for her.
“It sure seems that way.” Natsumi sighed.
“Well, at least it’s finally over.” Azumi said as she stood up and walked off.
“But… Why?” Yuna finally asked, her emotions slowly boiling over. Why had they lost? Had it all been for nothing? All the lives lost? All the friends she had to watch go off to war, only to return as ashes in a box or as nothing at all? Was Isao’s apparent death for nothing? Kahori’s!? And what of all the boys who had gone off to fight in the islands? They had just reclaimed them for the Empire, and they were just throwing it all away???
“They did drop that nasty bomb on Hatsukaichi, y’know.” Kyoko reminded her.
“We lost a lot of people in the Satsunans, too. Can’t keep fighting ‘til there’s nobody left.” Hiroyo added.
“Were we not prepared to do just that!?” Yuna shouted as she stood up. “They said we were going to fight to the last man! Look around you, there’s still five of us alive right here!” She continued, her voice wavering as tears streamed down her face. ”Why would they give in after all we’ve gone through!?!?”
And at that, she stormed out of the house.
12:32 PM
It felt as though the world which she had been born into was slipping away. The justice and righteousness of her homeland, blown away as the petals of the cherry blossom on the wind. Everything they had done, everything they had endured for the sake of victory, of the “liberation of East Ardia.” All of that had been ripped away, and right as they had been on the verge of victory, too. Even if it had just been a ceasefire—an armistice—as she’d overheard someone say on her way up the hill, this newfound peace tasted of bitter defeat, and at best, all they had achieved was a return to the world before the war. But what if it wasn’t as they said? Would Tsukishima be stripped from them, and with it, all of the food it produced and which they relied on so much?
Why? Why did it have to be this way? Had it all been a lie? Was the war really predicated on the liberation of Fusan’s brothers and sisters in the south, or was that all just an excuse for an attempt to subjugate others? Maybe that was why, Yuna thought as she looked around the terrace, scarce of vegetation as it was, this had all happened. They—the military, the government, hell, even the people as a whole—had sought to reshape the world through violent means, and so, through violence, they had been cowed, forced to reckon with the hopelessness of their cause. ”The mighty fall at last to become as dust on the wind.” as the old tale went. Was that what this all amounted to? Dust on the wind?
Kahori and Isao… They didn’t live long enough to see what would come of this beautiful land. Neither did the boys on the Fusō, nor did countless others who gave of themselves everything for a dream which, in truth, could never be achieved. And as she sat in the field, looking up toward the heavens, at that moment, Yuna once more wished she had died without knowing all of this. Without knowing how hopeless it truly was. Without getting to see those who killed so many walk away rather than face justice for their crimes. And so, she cried.