"Certainly, Mr. General Secretary." Sadazane replied. He was, of course, well aware of the talks with the ADSN; that was something he tried to keep himself appraised of, after all. "I suppose we could see about encouraging said investments, but just saying that isn't really enough, is it? Obviously, with regards to matters like tariffs, we will defer to whatever the ADSN suggests, so I would suggest we avoid that specific topic for the time being." He added before saying "That will, of course, constrain what exactly we are able to achieve here, but there are still plenty of other avenues for us to consider. But as you requested this meeting, I will let you take the lead, at least for now."

   As soon as the Rokkenjiman representative had finished, her Fusanese counterpart, Eikichi Hosokawa, glancing first at the Jiayuanese ambassador and then to his peers, would speak up, saying "The proposal put forwards by Mr. Ferraro seems reasonable in the eyes of the Empire of Fusan." before pausing momentarily. "And as my Rokkenjiman counterpart put it, we must pursue a means of upholding the vision set forth for this Association while also being open to partnerships without. As it stands, we are prepared to support the measure being proposed by Abertone."

Calling

---

Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
May 5th, 1945
6:31 PM

   "...more than 125 B-19 bombers participated in the raid. While there was damage to the Hikami Naval Arsenal and the 11th Naval Aviation Arsenal, the number of casualties is being reported as minimal..." the announcer on the radio said as Yuna, Azumi, and Natsumi listened, hopeful that Daisaku had survived. That day, a few hours prior, the city had come under another air raid, striking his place of work, and they hadn't heard from him since. It was hard not to fear the worst; even if it was almost certain that he had made it, the odds were never too favorable not to need proof. And with how late it was getting, they were likewise worried about Iwao. Sure, there wasn't any reporting about the port getting hit, but again, better safe than sorry. Thankfully, on that front, they were soon relieved, as he would walk in a few minutes later.
   "Oh, thank the heavens you're safe, Iwao." Natsumi said as everyone tried to greet him, check if he was okay. "Yeah, I suppose I am. Any news about dad?" He said, handing a parcel to Yuna.
   "He... hasn't come home yet." Yuna answered, taking the parcel and setting it aside and getting back to tending the stove.
   "I see... Well, I suppose if anything happened, then Hikami would've contacted us." Iwao sighed before sitting down to remove his shoes. "...Y'know, it's different now. Used to be, so long as you had family that worked there accompanying you, they'd let you on base. With the war, I guess it's not as easy as it used to be, so we really can only wait." He added, almost absent-minded as he finished. A few minutes would pass, with him just sitting there silently, lost in thought, perhaps. It wasn't like it was hard to tell why, he might've just lost his father after all, and not knowing... That was the hardest part. Eventually, if only to get his mind off that particular train of thought, he started helping to prepare dinner, peeling potatoes to go with the rice.
   "We need to talk about-" Yuna said, trying to get him to open up for a moment before stopping herself, realizing he probably wasn't ready.
   "Oh? About what, Yuna?" Iwao asked.
   "Nothing, just... Uhh..." She looked over to him. "Are you going to keep peeling, because I think you've finished that one."
   "Ah, right." He said, passing the potato to her. He could overhear the radio once again, still reporting on the attack earlier in the day. "I don't know if what YOFK's reporting is true, but Hikami's arsenal was badly damaged."

   The room seemed almost silent when he said that, the only noises being the crackling of the fire and the boiling of water. It was clear that he was hurting, that there was so much he couldn't say that he wished to have. Not to her, more than likely, but to a man he feared he might never see again. Not in this life, certainly. The fragility of humanity, swept away like sandcastles before the tides. Only the tides of their day were not of water, but of flesh, blood, and steel. It felt as though the world they had grown up in, the world their forefathers had striven so greatly to forge, had come crashing down, and soon, all that would be left was ash. What kind of world would there be left, when all of this was over. Would they even live to see it? Daisaku wouldn't, and neither would Isao. Nor did he think he would, given what had happened today.
   "My new uniform came in." He said after asking for Yuna to sit with him.
   "What?" Yuna asked; it felt as though her heart had skipped a beat when he said it.
   "That's what is in the parcel over there." He continued. "Starting on the fifteenth, I'm to be made a Chief Petty Officer. Judicial Affairs, nothing bad, but uhh... I'll be training with the fleet and won't be back until August."
   "...Will you come back afterwards?" Yuna asked, grasping his hand.
   "I believe so." Iwao answered, looking into her eyes. "You're going to be okay, Yuna. You may be somewhat short, but... Well, I've seen you practicing. If you couldn't protect our family, then nobody could."
   "But I... No. I can't!" She answered, raising her voice before standing up and taking a step back. Maybe wasn't good enough. She'd already seen her brother fly off, never to be seen again on the promise that he might come back, and now, he was asking her to hold out hope like that again? What if he didn't come home? "Isao told me he would come back, and you know what that happened. I'm sorry, but-" She tried to say, but she was interrupted not by his voice, but something different. That most simple of gestures: A hug.
   "I'm sorry, Yuna." Iwao said, holding her close. "Genuinely, I am. If I had a choice, I wouldn't be doing this. I hope you'll forgive me."
   "I... I'm sorry too." Yuna replied. "I'll do it. It's only three months, we'll survive."

Today, the 11th of February, 2024, Fusan commemorates the birth of the nation, a day steeped in legend and tradition. The annual celebration, known as National Foundation Day or Kigensetsu, marks the accession of Emperor Shinō to the Celestial Throne in 660 BC. Emperor Shinō, a descendant of the Sun Goddess Amaterasu and the Storm God Susanoo, is revered as the founder of Fusan. According to ancient texts such as the Kojiki and the Fusō Shoki, Shinō embarked upon a formidable journey from Amakusa to Yamato, where he established his imperial court. Shinō's victory over rival clans and his subsequent unification of Fusan have gone on to become the cornerstones of the nation's historical narrative, symbolizing unity and resilience in the face of adversity. It was this unity and resilience that allowed Fusan, even in the darkest hours of the Greater East Ardia War, to nonetheless push forwards, ready to sacrifice itself for the future of its rising generations as well as for peace in East Ardia. Likewise, it was this unity that helped the nation to rebuild, returning to its pre-war peak by the start of the 1950s, and in that same spirit, to come together in the aftermath of last year's attack.

First established in 1873 under Emperor Keiō, National Foundation Day is typically celebrated with pomp and grandeur, featuring parades, ceremonies, and fireworks. Though initially merely a celebration of imperial rule, the holiday has become a day to remember Fusan's rich history and the perseverance of its people. Indeed, the Imperial Armed Forces held a parade in Shinkyo as part of its own celebrations, also using the opportunity to rehearse the upcoming National Victory Celebration that will supplant the standard Armed Forces Day parade next month. Also during the events of the day, Prime Minister Konishi delivered an address to the nation, where he urged every citizen to enjoin with great resolve to continue the prosperity of Fusan for the sake of future generations. Teido shrines and Buddhist temples alike held festivals known as kenkoku-sai, with Mikoshi being carried through the streets as part of the celebrations.

Emperor Shinō's legendary journey, marked with unparalleled courage and determination, continues to resonate with the Fusanese people. His legacy, encapsulated within the spirit of National Foundation Day, serves as a reminder of the importance of unity and resilience in the face of adversity. And as Fusan continues boldly into the new era, much as it has done a thousand times before, the story of Emperor Shinō and his founding of the nation will remain a powerful symbol of hope and endurance, inspiring generations to come from now unto eternity.

Far Above

---

Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
April 8th, 1945
8:02 AM

   It had been another long night, another air raid. That made, what, five in the last week and a half, maybe more? Either way, though every effort had been made to make the shelter as comfortable as possible, Yuna could never fall asleep in there, and frankly, neither could anyone else in the family. And so, as the sun rose over the city, she had gotten back to work. First, tending to the fields, in which she was still occasionally finding bits and pieces of shrapnel from the 16th, then she had to make the first preparations for lunch—she wouldn't be home until close to 11 that morning, so it seemed wise to make things easier on her mother-in-law and on Azumi—and then, finally, she had to put clothing on the line to dry. Best to make use of the nice weather they were having while it lasted, anyways. This had become almost routine, but today was different. She heard a roar off in the distance, vaguely similar to those planes that Daisaku had mentioned a few weeks earlier, but somehow different. And as she placed the next shirt on the line, she soon glanced up towards the sky, where she saw a white cloud, many times longer than any other in the sky yet also thinner, growing in a single direction.
   "Now that's something I've never seen before..." She said as footsteps drew closer.
   "That's hardly a surprise..." Daisaku said, bending over to lend a hand with the laundry. "...It's a condensation trail."
   "A... condensation trail?" Yuna inquired, her curiosity piqued.
   "Well, you see, whenever the high altitude air becomes cold and humid, the water vapor condenses in the exhaust..." Daisaku started his long tirade. "...In other cases, vapors can result from turbulence in the air..." he continued as Natsumi and Azumi walked by. "I see you made a mistake, trying to engage him on that..." Natsumi said. "Get him started on science and there's no stopping him until he either tires himself or you out."
   "Believe me, we can't escape it either." Azumi joked.
   "I see I'm annoying you all, so I'll just cut to the chase. The Ardians have a new high-altitude aircraft, probably something that will be harder to shoot down. But I'm sure we've got that covered."

   A few more minutes would pass before Yuna would have to head out; it was her turn for combat training, just like all of the other women in the last week or two.

Ride Through the Dark

---

Himi Line, Izumi Prefecture
November 19th, 1944
6:52 PM

   People are so fragile, Yuna's father used to say, and so you should try to cherish the time you have when them, since each day could be their last. While it was perhaps wrong to say that this had been a lesson, Yuna thought as she glanced out through the window of the train car, it seemed like Isao's disappearance had shown such sayings to be true. And what times they had. From the days they'd cross Hatsukaichi bay to see their grandparents to when the family had taken the voyage across the inland sea to Tenkyo and Okayama, they had certainly enjoyed their time together, even if, when they were young, her brother had quite the temper. Yet even as the orange sky grew darker and darker, almost as though the world was providing a metaphor for the nature of hope, she yet held firm in her conviction that he was still alive. For there was no body, no remains to be buried, and it certainly wasn't like Isao to just go down without a fight. Somewhere out there, whether out to sea or perhaps behind enemy lines, she knew he was still alive. He had to be.

   "Y'know, you really shouldn't stand so close to the window this time of year, Yuna." Iwao muttered in his half-exhausted state, having been up since long before the crack of dawn preparing for the trip out. It had been a pain and a half just getting the tickets owing to the restrictions put in place earlier in the year, and it certainly wouldn't do if either of them got sick.
   "I do know, actually." Yuna sighed. "I just... Y'know, every time I see the sunset now, part of me hopes I'll see him flying home."
   "Isao?" He asked. "I know, and I'm sure he'll just love to know you were still waiting for him. It's what he'd want." He added, though he didn't say how he personally felt about the matter. For her sake, his own beliefs didn't matter, not right now. All it'd do was cause anguish. Suffice to say, capture by the Ardians was worse than deat at this stage in the war, if the traffic he'd had to sort through was anything to go off of. Barbarians in the truest sense, their soldiers, if the rumors were accurate about Yakushima.
   "Then you knew him less than I would've thought." Yuna said. "If he found out that I'd held onto his letter, that I was waiting on him, he'd be furious."
   "A letter?"
   "He... He was planning on marrying someone in Kyūre. I never got to know who, but I've tried looking." Yuna said, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "He had a life planned out ahead of him, and... and... and now it won't-" she tried to say as the emotions she'd tried to bottle up started to flood back once more. She'd tried to hold it in, tried to not think about it, but no matter how hard she'd tried to hide from that thought, it had a way of worming its way back into her mind every time. Her brother was dead. There was nothing she could do about it. And most importantly, she'd never see him again.
   "You're okay... It's gonna be alright." Iwao said, holding her close as the train pulled into the station. "It's gonna be alright."

To His Imperial Highness, Regent Maximus Astralix of the Empire of Tanith,

   I am writing to you on behalf of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Eijirō of the Empire of Fusan and with the blessing of the duly-elected government of our nation, with the goal of formally reestablishing relations with the Empire of Tanith as part of our wider effort to expand our network of diplomatic relations across Mundus. Naturally, as a result of the nature of a position such as yours, I understand if you cannot at this time pay visit to Fusan at any point in the immediate future, and as such, His Imperial Majesty is prepared to lead a delegation to your nation instead, should that be your wish. Whatever the case may be, however, we eagerly await your response so that, whether you choose to agree to this meeting or not, preparations may be made.

   First to arrive was a most surprising individual, a representative of Asadal, with whom the Empire had scarcely any real relationship to speak of with. Now, it was hardly his place to speak on matters of diplomacy—after all, Hisato's primary concern at all times was the wellbeing of the Imperial Family, both in the best of times and, as today proved, the worst—but he couldn't help but find himself intrigued by the mystery that was life in the country. News from the "Great Kingdom", as they called it, was hardly something the average Fusanese read, and even for someone who moved among such lofty circles as his own, he was hardly the most informed about the State Councilor's homeland.
   "I appreciate your most kind words," he spoke gently; if the guest from abroad didn't understand, a small host of interpreters were on standby to translate. "and I will be certain to pass them along when I get the chance." He added with a bow as the first guests passed on. Soon enough, the next guest, one more familiar to the East Ardian nation, was to arrive.

   Compared to the Asadaleoin, the Rokkenjimans were no stranger to the Fusanese, and especially to Hisato. He hadn't lost anyone in the war which, through no fault of the Imperial Family, had broken out in the year prior, yet he had an unprecedented look into the decision-making that had gone into its waging. After all, one of his duties was to aid in managing the emperor's schedule, and he often would proof-read any speeches he made beforehand, which meant he'd not only had a better idea of what led into the war than most, but also the process by which peace had been achieved. How lucky was he, a boy from a small town, otherwise a nobody were it not for circumstance, to have played such an important role in deciding the fate of so many. "I will be certain to keep that in mind," Hisato stated when Sophia mentioned the possibility of overstepping boundaries. "As the old song goes, the flowers will bloom once more for those yet to be born." He added, paraphrasing the song "Hana wa saku"; that had been a favorite of the late Emperor's for as long as he could remember, so it only seemed fitting.

   Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking with Sophia, more guests arrived. He of course recognized them all from the list, but he was most familiar with the Countess of Leonaise; she was a relative of the Empress, not to mention a prominent diplomat in her own right, so given recent events, it was not a surprise that she was present in her stead. What was surprising, at least to most who didn't have the guest-list, were the Toshikawans. It wasn't that they had a poor relationship with Fusan; rather on the contrary, other than due to the events of years passed which hardly bore mentioning, the two nations actually got along rather well. No, it was simply a matter of the nation not being what would be called very diplomatically active. Even so, it was good to see them here. "Thank you for your condolences." He said before glancing around at the other guests, mostly members of the Fusanese nobility and military, who carried swords before giving the Toshikawans a knowing look, as if to say "Yes, of course you can have them."

   A few minutes would pass as the rest of the guests arrived at the palace, slowly funneling through the gates of the Imperial Palace. There were few as noteworthy as who had come before, mostly low-level diplomats from who knows where, but there was at least one more who bore mentioning. Arun Kaikaew, the President of the Union State, more often referred to incorrectly as Kalasin after the troubled region, had actually managed to make it. He was joined by General Okuda, representing the APA and, by extension, the people of Kalasin proper in lieu of an elected government, and Minister-President Yi Jun-seok of Paechon.
   "On the behalf of the people of Kalasin, Paechon, and the Vax Republic, I would like to extend our most heartfelt condolences to the Imperial Family and to the people of Fusan." President Kaikaew said. "Emperor Eikō was truly a friend of our nation, one whose absence will be sorely missed."
   "Thank you, honestly." Hisato said in response, offering a short bow as these final guests arrived. Just a few minutes were left, and so, he too would enter the palace, taking his seat just behind those of the Imperial Family.

---

   How many times had he been in this position, Eijirō thought as he looked down at the coffin, its frame draped in the flag of this most sacred land. Even before coming to the throne, he'd attended funerals, both for family and for friends. He'd accompanied fallen brothers on their final journeys and had held the hands of the wounded in their final hours, and yet, it never got easier, being confronted with death. To think, he'd had time to prepare for this occasion, just over four years in fact, and even that didn't help. And why should it? Within this "box", a man whom he saw as more of a father-figure than his own late parent lay, and though there was the promise that they would see one another again, that was many, many years away, and even that reunion would bring sorrow for others.
   "Your Majesty?" Natsuki Uematsu asked. "It's time."
   "Right." Eijirō said, placing his hand on the coffin for a moment and muttering "It's been a pleasure, o-jiisan." before straightening his uniform and leaving the hall and rejoining his family, if only for the sake of decorum. He would have one last chance to bid his farewells, a little under six hours from now, and what more could be even be said?

   As the minutes counted down, the members of the Imperial Family, led by Eijirō, entered the open-air building that was the Shishinden and took their seats. Here, in the very same place that, in the brisk air of November in the year 1982, Emperor Eikō had first sat upon the throne, would begin his final voyage into the afterlife. Once everyone had been in place, then entered a priest, cloaked in a white jōe and carrying a shaku, at which time those assembled were expected to bow to him.

   "We shall now commence the funeral of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Uchitsune." The priest, the head of the Meiwa Grand Shrine—the holiest of shrines in the Teidō faith—said upon stepping up to the podium, its modern design clashing with the traditional architecture of the palace, almost as if a reflection of the life of the deceased. Once he had finished, the other priests, representing the six head shrines, Meiwa included on account of the head priest who was presiding over the funeral, entered the hall, conducting their purification ritual—which included chanting and the waving of harai-gushi over the guests—as everyone once again bowed, repeating this bow once again when prompted by the priest. Then came the presenting of offerings, mostly in the form of food and banners as a band played the beautiful yet haunting sounds of gagaku, and once that had been completed, the head priest spoke once more, reciting his elegy for the late Emperor, unique from all others as was the custom for the funerals of men in his position.

   Once that too was done, the head priest moved aside as another priest, the head of the Mihara shrine in Izumi prefecture, took the podium, paper in hand. Gently, he began to read the eulogy prepared by the Imperial Family, saying "We are here to honor the life of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Uchitsune, a man whose life was, if nothing else, devoted in service to a calling greater than himself. Our departed sovereign, whom lived for just short of a century upon this world, having pursued not his own happiness but rather that of his family, his nation, indeed the world, has been called home to sit at the side of his father and his father's fathers under the watchful gaze of the great goddess, now until eternity." He paused, taking a breath as he looked out upon the room, first upon the guests and then upon the Imperial Family. "Yet even though he prioritized the needs of others, be it in the fires of the Great War or behind the closed doors of the Imperial Palace, he often said that the greatest joy a man could know was to grow old among the company of those he loved. Verily, I can say that in that regard, our departed lordship knew much joy.

   "When he was young, a mere eighteen years of age, Uchitsune bore witness first-hand to the horrors of war, when in 1945 the Ardian Empire ravaged Shinkyo and brought death and destruction to its people. Like many heroes of his day, he took it upon himself to aid his fellow man, yet his weapons were not of fire and steel, but of the heart, for he volunteered as an ambulance driver in the closing days of the war. Without his aid, like the many hundreds who likewise took up this crucial role, many who were saved would not have drawn breath yet again. Though he did not speak often of that time, he nonetheless was proud of his role in those days, as too he was of those who paid the ultimate price.

   "Yet in time, the war would end, and though Fusan was bruised, like the phoenix, it arose from the ashes shining more brightly than ever before. In the years that followed, Uchitsune continued to fight for that which he saw as just, becoming an outspoken critic of the Yokusan system which, going into the 1960s, continued to dominate the nation. In his words, which His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Eijirō has taken to heart, “True freedom cannot remain healthy when it is kept in chains and starved of choice.” Such words hold true for all to see, even as many in the world yet try to obfuscate it. It was no coincidence then that, when the system was abolished, then-Crown Prince Uchitsune and his family celebrated.

   "But whenever he was asked what his greatest achievement in life was, our departed sovereign would answer that he would most like to be remembered not as an Emperor, but rather as a father to his children, a man who prioritized their health and happiness, as well as a father to the nation in much the same regard. When his wife, the late-Empress Terumi passed, he was left distraught, yet such a dark time, he found himself drawn to the wisdom of his ancestors, devoting his remaining years to study of his faith with a conviction possessed by few others. And now, we can be certain that he has found a joy unending in the company of all whom he loved and since lost. Thank you for your time, and for joining in commemorating his life."

   Thus, the final stage of the funeral commenced with the presentation of tamagushi, followed by the removal of the offerings and the end of the service. Soon to follow would be the long procession to the funerary site, made on foot as it was in tradition of their ancestors, passed down for generations. In the intervening time, forty-five minutes in length, there would be time for the guests to talk among themselves and, if needed, with members of the Fusanese government prior to departure.

The Diet opened an ordinary session on Wednesday. The primary focus of debate is on political reform including the role of the Prime Minister, which, although amendments have been proposed throughout the years, is not necessarily formalized under the constitution. With a clear majority in the Diet, some suspect that Sadazane Konishi may be able to push through such an amendment, however as of now no details with regards to what it might entail have been published. The House of Peers opened their plenary session at 10:00 AM local time by offering a silent prayer for the Imperial Family, which lost His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Eikō, on the 20th. The chairs of the chamber's standing committees were then appointed. At 1:00 PM, an opening ceremony was held with Emperor Eijirō attending, during which time he delivered a brief address to a joint session, after which he received the traditional banzai salute seen at the end of such addresses.

Prime Minister Konishi then addressed the Diet, reporting on the previous year's budget, the nation's economy, news, and other key fields before setting his priorities and those of the Diet for the session. Among these priorities, he stressed the need for transparency by the government with regards to political funding, noting a recent scandal within the Yakumo provincial assembly wherein five members of the YFD failed to disclose funding for their campaigns on the part of DAIPEX. He further stressed that without this transparency, it would be difficult for the people to maintain their faith within the government, potentially risking its stability and the continued health of democracy within the country. Later on in his address, the Prime Minister alluded to his support for an amendment with regards to the office of Prime Minister, stating, quote, "...it has been 135 years since the Constitution was promulgated, and yet even today, the Head of the Government only fills that role through procedure and laws passed after the fact."

Yet while many observers see Konishi at the peak of his popularity, it cannot be said that he lacks any detractors. Though his response to the attack on Awara, which resulted in a return of Fusanese troops to Kalasin, did serve to quiet dissent for a time, recent actions along the Kalasinese-Kusanese border have called into question whether he is truly up to the task of protecting the nation and ensuring a proper transition to democracy within the troubled region of the Union State. This, combined with what some see as an unsatisfactory resolution to the conflict over the Tokara Islands last year followed by attempts at rapprochement with the Rokkenjiman government, will likely continue to haunt the Konishi government for some time, however an insider within the administration seemed hopeful when he spoke about their prospects going ahead into the year.

Thursday saw the Diet vote to confirm Imperial Decree 14067, which requires that, from the 11th of February onwards, the government cease the use of the name "Daito" in all official business of state and that the name "Fusan" or, in its full form, the "Empire of Fusan", be the sole official name of the nation in international affairs. The vote on "House Resolution 2743", officially referred to as the "National Naming Conventions Act", passed the Diet 392 to 68, with five representatives voting present. The resolution then passed to the House of Peers, who voted 153 to 95 in favor, with Emperor Eijirō signing it into law early this morning. As per what was stipulated under Imperial Decree 14067, the act will go into effect on the 11th of February, 2024. The session is scheduled to last for 150 days through the 21st of June.

---

The sound of mukkuri resonates at the Yezo Thanksgiving Festival in 2023 in Akashi. The traditional Yezo musical instrument is made of bamboo and can mimic the sounds of nature, including wildlife. During the festival, dancers perform a pororimse ring dance, which typically marks the end of Yezo feasts. These are common scenes across Fusan's north, but they are likely unfamiliar to most in a city like Akashi. The festival was organized by Etsuko Yoshida, the head of a group aligned with the larger Utari Mosir that aims to increase awareness of Yezo culture in the Shinkyo region and to connect community members with their heritage through language and traditions.

Yoshida was born into a Yezo family in Hokuriku. At the age of 20, she moved to Toyokawa, a city near Shinkyo, to work for the Fusan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company. Yoshida recalls what it was like adjusting to urban life. "There are many Utari living in Hokuriku and many people there are quick to discriminate against us as Utari," she explains. "Here in the city, we are often seen as foreigners or as half-Fusanese, even in spite of claims by the government that such discrimination does not exist. Yet when I first experienced that, I thought maybe it's preferable in a strange way."

Yoshida quickly realized that this discrimination was rooted in an ignorance of Yezo culture. Someone told her people would say things to their Yezo acquaintances like, "What do you eat?" and "Why don't you go back to your own country?" Yoshida says such barbs have led many Yezo to conceal their heritage. Yoshida was no exception. She attempted to hide her Yezo identity whenever possible. She says that's so common in her community that some parents don't even tell their children they're Yezo. In fact, she tells us that she has friends who only learned about their true heritage later in life. Yoshida says only about 200-300 of the thousands of Yezo in the Shinkyo area are engaged in Yezo cultural activities or try to raise awareness about their heritage. In 2012, the Fusanese government expressed its intention to promote policies based on the recognition that the Yezo are an indigenous people. But lacking any legal bearing, the declaration failed to result in measures to enhance their status or increase awareness and respect among the larger population. Consequently, the issues faced by the Yezo remained unresolved and the struggle continued.

Early on in her new career as an indigenous rights activist, Yoshida drew inspiration from a region with a strong indigenous heritage—one which, though part of Fusan, is more than 4,500 kilometers away—Tsukishima. In 2012, the same year that the government issued its declaration with regards to the Yezo, she met Yi Sung-Nam, who throughout the 1970s and 80s, worked tirelessly to secure full recognition for the Dalseomin, relatives of the Paechonese and Kusanese, as an indigenous people within Fusan. She told him about the challenges faced by Yezo people and and how impressed she was with the way in which Dalseomin people have been able to assert their rights. She said she wanted to take young Yezo to Tsukishima in order to meet members of the Dalseomin community and learn from them. Yi responded by arranging a month-long exchange program.

"I think the discussion with Etsuko, and how she talked about the plight that Yezo people face, how she presented herself, moved us to say, 'We want to help you,'" he notes. "You've got to decolonize people's minds about their own culture and about who they are and what's happened to them. You have to tell them about their history because then people will move."

The following year, Yoshida travelled to Tsukishima alongside a group of young Yezo and visited pildeu and marae, traditional Dalseomin and Maori meeting houses. Though used by different cultures, these meeting houses are clearly descended from those used in what is now the Commonwealth of The Unified Iwi, with many scholars noting that it is likely that Paechonese settlers on the island likely adopted the idea behind them as part of their efforts to distinguish themselves from their homeland. These meeting houses are located across the island and are seen as gathering places for local communities. They host celebrations, rituals, discussions on current issues and, in some cases, serve as sporting venues or canteens. Among the indigenous Tsukishimans, whom it must be made clear are distinct from the Dalseomin even in spite of their intertwined history, these marae are each named after an ancestor, creating a sort of emotional bridge to the past. This idea resonated with Yoshida, as did the role the meeting houses play in bringing the community together.

"When you are within a pildeu or a marae, you don't say anything bad about people," she explains. "These spaces are where you meet and talk openly about things. You can hold essential conversations about how to conduct yourselves and how to move forward," says Yoshida. "We Yezo need similar spaces." Yoshida named her organization Casi An Kar, which means "Fortresses of Our Own" in Yezo.

The festival in Akashi is a step toward the creation of a space resembling the pildeu and marae in mainland Fusan. The main obstacle is cost, and the event—now in its tenth year—serves as a means to raise both awareness and funds. Last year, the celebration saw around 300 people attend. The three-hour celebration was a tribute to those who have worked to strengthen the sense of community among the Yezo and to increase awareness among the wider population. Yoshida gave a rendition of a Yezo-language song from the 1960s, written by a Yezo living in the Shinkyo area about struggling with city life.
   "No matter how long the road is
    No matter how hard life is
    As a true human being
    I want to walk with everyone
    As a true human being"

Some in the audience said that it was their first opportunity to experience a Yezo performance. For others, the festival was a chance to reconnect with old friends in the community. Afterwards, Yoshida said she always knew it would be a long struggle. But she added that she is determined to keep working to provide a richer experience of Yezo culture in the city for both members of the community and the wider population.

	AIM-3 Vulture
Manufacturer	Zayasu
Type	Medium-range, semi-active radar homing air-to-air missile
Length	3.7 m
Diameter	200 mm
Mass	230 kg
Other Info	Serves as the basis for a surface-to-air missile.
Cost	$125,000
Background	The AIM-3 was, for a time, Fusan's principal beyond visual range (BVR) air-to-air missile, originally intended primarily for use against larger targets such as bombers. Although it remains in service, since the 1990s it has begun being phased out in favor of the more advanced AIM-10.

To whom it may concern,
It is with a heavy heart that I invite you, -name-, to the funeral of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Eikō, on the 1st of February, 2024, in the city of Tenkyo, Kinai Province. Understand that this will be a day of reflection, both on the life of His Imperial Majesty and on previous century, of which the departed was blessed to see nearly in its entirety. Furthermore, during the event, it will be expected, though not required, that attendees participate in the procession from the Imperial Palace in Tenkyo to the Yamato Imperial Graveyard just outside of the city, a trip which will take just over three hours to complete. If you are unable to join the procession for any reason, then transportation will be provided by the Imperial Household Ministry to the gravesite. A full itinerary is provided attached to this invitation.

Upon the completion of the funeral and burial of His Imperial Majesty, we anticipate that many of our guests will seek to conduct diplomacy with the Imperial Government and between guests. Thus, if requested, time will be made to accommodate such meetings that evening and on the day after the funeral.

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February 1, 2024
7:24 AM

   It wasn't every day that Hisato was in Tenkyo, though he wished he had more time to visit. After all, the city was the spiritual heart of the nation, with so many temples and shrines that it was difficult, if indeed not impossible, to remember all of them. Perhaps in a few years, whenever he planned on retiring, he might move out here. That or, as he'd often considered, he would move out into the countryside, return to his roots, so to speak. Yet such thoughts were inappropriate for the time being, as today, the nation said goodbye to a great leader and a good man. Emperor Eikō, known in life as Uchitsune, had passed away the month prior at the venerable age of 98. Nearly a century of life, snuffed out so quickly, and he would be the one to oversee it. He wondered to himself is this was what Harutaka Yokoyama, the Grand Steward of the IHM in 1982, thought and felt at the time that Emperor Kunan passed away, now over forty years ago. And to think, this wasn't even the first funeral for an Emperor that he had to organize... It was all so strange to him.

   Yet he could not express how he felt about the occasion, not publicly anyways. Whereas others might mourn for the world to see, he had a job to do, even if he had a personal connection to the late Emperor-Emeritus. He had been the man to hire him, almost four decades prior, back when he was just fresh from his time in college. What did he see in him, exactly, that he, just a boy from rural Odate, the second son of the priest in his hometown, could be made the steward for the Emperor's household? From a nobody to one of the most important people in the Imperial Court, second only to the Lord Keeper and the Imperial family. So trusted that he had remained in his position under both Emperor Antei and now His Imperial Majesty as well. Yet in the end, when the man who had hired him, who had in many ways mentored him all those years, had finally passed on unto the next world, he stood here alone, waiting for guests who would accompany the fallen Emperor in this, his final journey.
   "On the behalf of the Imperial Family, I wi-" He tried to say briefly as he went over the greeting just prior to the arrival of the guests. The version he had just tried, in his mind anyways, didn't sound quite right, didn't convey the mournful feeling of the event properly. Eventually, he would settle on what to say, however, and when the first guest arrived, he would deliver on this first job for the day. "On the behalf of His Imperial Majesty and the nation as a whole, I bid you welcome. I only wish that it were under better circumstances."

Welcome! I look forwards to RPing with you once you've settled in. If you have any questions about the rp, don't hesitate to ask, we'd love to answer!

While I regrettably didn't get to know him as well as many here, for what it's worth, I'd like to offer my condolences to Ben's friends and family. May he rest in peace.

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Statement on Successful Test of a 18.1 Inch Gun-launched Scramjet Projectile

   The IFN Fusō, in conjunction with our defense industry partners at Zayasu Heavy Industries, undertook a test firing of an experimental scramjet-powered munition from the vessel's Number Two 18.1-inch gun turret at 1:53 PM TST on the 17th of January off the eastern coast of Tsukishima. This test firing is part of ongoing efforts by the Ministry of War to field long-range scramjet-powered projectiles for use aboard naval vessels and with ground-based artillery. This test is unrelated to recent events with regards to the missile tests undertaken by the People's Democratic Republic of Kusan, rather having been planned as early as the 5th of July, 2023.

   The projectile travelled approximately 520 kilometers at a speed in excess of Mach 7 thanks in part to the trajectory of the munition and to the dutiful work of the crew aboard the IFN Fusō in conjunction with Space Force assets. While not reaching the projected maximum range of the projectile, the test successfully demonstrated that the scramjet worked and that the projectile was capable of being guided via GPS, all while providing valuable data to ensure future successes with the program. The test is a culmination of months of preparation that involve multiple government partners. The men and women who performed this test are among the most skillfully trained and educated the Navy and Space Force have to offer. The Imperial Fusanese Navy will continue to work with its partners within the Imperial Fusanese Armed Forces and the Ministry of War, as well as with its partners in the defense sector, to continue the development of these munitions. It is their intent to perform a full range test of the weapon NET late February 2024.