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Messages - Daitō

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1
T65 155mm Howitzer
RoleTowed Howitzer
ManufacturerZayasu Heavy Industries
Crew7 + 1
Weight4,200 kg
Length10.7 m
Barrel Length5.08 m
Shell:Various
Caliber155mm
Effective Firing RangeT97: 21 km
T670: 30 km
Kusanagi: 40 km
Other CapabilitiesVariants:
   T65S2 - Block 1A software upgrade. Addition of an Enhanced Portable Inductive Artillery Fuze Setter (EPIAFS) to enable Kusanagi and and precision munition compatibility.
   T65ER - Upgrade created by the Extended Range Cannon Artillery (ERCA) project to extend range from 30 to 70 km.
Ammunition:
   T97 - 155mm High Explosive round
   T301S1 - 155mm High Explosive Rocket Assisted (HERA) Projectile
   T774 - 155mm Cannon-Launched Guided Projectile
   T796 - 155mm High Explosive Projectile
   T670 - 155mm High Explosive Extended Range Full Bore Projectile
   T840 Kusanagi - 155mm Extended Range Guided Projectile
Cost$2.025 million
BackgroundThe T65 howitzer is a towed 155mm artillery piece in the howitzer class. First seeing combat in the Second Kalasin War, the T65 first entered service in 2005 with the Imperial Fusanese Army, replacing the older T38. The T65 is capable of firing a wide array of shells, most notably the T840 Kusanagi, an extended range guided projectile with an effective range of 40 kilometers and a theoretical maximum range of 70. While it is capable of being operated by just five people, in most situations, it will be crewed instead by eight.

2
T49 105mm Howitzer
RoleTowed field gun
ManufacturerZayasu Heavy Industries
Crew5 - 7
Weight2,320 kg
Length4.85 m
Barrel Length3.2 m
Shell:Various
Caliber105mm
Effective Firing Range17.5 km
Other CapabilitiesCapable of being dropped via parachute
Cost$1.9 million
BackgroundThe T49 is a 105 mm howitzer used by the Imperial Fusanese Army and Marines. A licensed copy of a foreign design, the T49, owing to its design, is intended to be towed to its firing positions by another vehicle, most commonly the Uma, and can be easily airlifted by helicopter, or airdropped by parachute.

3
War and Conflict / Re: A Storm in the Channels (IC Thread)
« on: March 24, 2024, 04:02:49 PM »
Mepale, Kalasin
72 km Northwest of Ayothaya
20 March, 2024
2200 Hours

   The town of Mepale was quiet, the nearly-full moon hanging overhead. Off in the distance, a dog was barking, and there was the occasional rumble of an engine which passed through onto parts unknown. It had been a few months since major combat operations had ended on the part of the Fusanese, but the war was hardly over. Nintau would be sure of that. This war would not end until either men like him were dead or Kalasin was free. Free of exploitation, of domination by foreign powers, of a so-called "democracy" which represented only the interests of shareholders and the one percent. Free of foreign lapdogs like Kaikaew and Montri, yes, but also self-serving butchers like Rangsitpol. To think Prateung would ally with him, even after all of that... It was unconscionable, but at the same time, they had a shared enemy, one which now occupied this sacred land. Eventually, the middle-aged Kalasinese found his way to grate, entering the town's sewers through it before reaching the hideout. To the outside world, it would've been as though he had simply disappeared.

   Inside, the hideout was abuzz with activity, even at this hour. The contrast was like night and day, truth be told, and it was clear that something was up. What it was, however, eluded Nintau, though he ignored it for a moment, instead pulling out a map from his bag before walking over to his commander, Parat Anand.
   "Sir." He spoke up, "I have the map you asked for." He added before placing it on a table. The map, which showed the local area, charted out what appeared to be supply lines for the enemy forces, with several of them converging on a bridge not too far outside of town. "If I may make a suggestion, we should hit them this week, blow the bridge over the Ping, and cut their supply lines up to Lamphun. I-"
   "We will do no such thing, Vipavakit." Parat cut him off. "I appreciate the work you've done, but... For now, our orders are to stand by. Prateung's got something big in the works, and he wants us all ready."
   "Big, sir?" Nintau asked. "What do you mean?"
   "I don't have the details, but whatever it is, it's going to send a serious message to the Fusanese."
Nagatoro, Shinkyo Metropolis
16km East of Shinkyo
21 March, 2024
0430 Hours

   Another long night at the office, Jiro thought as he poured over documents. He didn't like being kept this late, not being home to see his kids head off to school, or even just getting to sleep in his own bed. But alas, fate seemed to have different plans for him. Fate, or the orders of his superiors. He might've complained, but the truth was, there was scarcely a nobler job than furthering the security of his nation. It's why he'd been so eager to go to work for CIRA, now nearly a decade ago, and it was a job which he took much pride in, even if it had its drawbacks. "Military Analyst." That was what his title was, and it was a role he personally thought he excelled at. But this morning had been filled with dull work, just reviewing files and dossiers about Kalasin, the PAFK, and other groups operating in the region. Compared to a few months ago, just after the attack on Awara—an attack he felt in some way culpable for not finding out sooner—it had been awfully quiet these days. No word about Prateung, no signs of any major offensives brewing, nothing. That was, at least, until a few hours ago, when he found something.

   It might've seemed like a good thing, having a large number of PAFK cells in Kalasin had go dark and leaders go into hiding, but it seemed too sudden, too organized to simply be a response to the continued peacekeeping mission. But in his line of work, it paid to be vigilant, and so, over the last few hours, everything seemed to be falling into place. It seemed, at least in his eyes anyways, that the PAFK was preparing for something big. If he was wrong—and he hoped he was—then this was nothing and the war might be over sooner rather than later. But if he was right, then Fusan was going to be struck hard and a lot of people were going to die as a result. By the gods, he hoped he was wrong.

4
International News Networks / Re: YHK (News from Fusan)
« on: March 16, 2024, 12:32:46 PM »

Ibuki, Barakuda Launch as Konishi Urges Naval Rearmament

Harunori Kōno
03/16/2024

Just under sixty years after commissioning its first-nuclear powered aircraft carrier, the Imperial Fusanese Navy launched today the second ship of its third generation of nuclear-powered carriers. Featuring upgrades over her sister, including a new reactor similar in principal to that powering the Miyakejima-class strike cruisers, the Ibuki, like the other members of the Taihō-class, is designed to carry naval air power well into the late 21st century and perhaps even beyond. The carrier builds on decades of experience with the construction of larger vessels, however, she contains several upgrades over previous classes, including the ability to generate more electrical power to support the propulsion and ship systems and new launch and retrieval systems enabling the operation of a wider range of aircraft than even her sister. The vessel, after having been launched, has been moved to a dock in Hatsukaichi, where it will undergo further outfitting and testing before being delivered to the navy in 2025.

Ibuki was joined in its launch by the Barakuda, the lead ship in its class of nuclear-powered "hunter-killer" submarines, which was launched three days ago. As has already been mentioned earlier this month, the vessel is set to be delivered to the navy for sea trials on the 17th of April. It will remain under testing for a period of no less than a year, although due to the nature of the vessel, the navy has refrained from stating to what extent these trials will include beyond what would be expected of a vessel of its type. Together, both Ibuki and Barakuda paint a picture of a navy steaming boldly into the future, ready to tackle any challenges it may face with the might and resolve which has come to be expected of it.

However, in a speech by Prime Minister Konishi at the launching ceremony for the Ibuki, he echoed the calls by Admiral Satoru Hazuki, the Chief of Naval Operations, for a large-scale rearmament of the navy to better meet those challenges.

   "...It is therefore my conclusion, consistent with the analysis brought forwards by Admiral Hazuki and others within our great navy, that we need a naval force of no fewer than five hundred ships." The Prime Minister said. "In order to achieve that goal, I am calling on the Diet to approve this rearmament, the likes of which we have not seen in many years, in order to safeguard our nation from any threats it may face going forwards."
Asteroid Takenaka "Rich in Organic Materials", says NASDA

Heisuke Nakamura
03/16/2024

The asteroid 641376 Takenaka may be rich in organic molecules that could serve as the building blocks of life. The discovery was made when ūchunauts aboard the DSP took their first look at the samples collected from the asteroid earlier in the month. The sample, according to one member of the crew, appears to contain several "prebiotic organics" including several types of amino acids that are used by living creatures to build proteins essential for regulating chemical reactions and forming structures like hair and muscles. These molecules can also be created by various non-living processes, such as chemical reactions that can take place in asteroids. The findings add more credibility to the theory that the basic ingredients needed to kickstart the development of life on Mundus could have been delivered to the planet in its infancy from space. The term "organic molecules" describes a wide range of compounds containing the element carbon coupled with hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, sulfur and other atoms and are the building blocks of all forms of life here on Mundus. These compounds can be created by chemical reactions that don't involve living things, meaning that chemical processes within asteroids can create the ingredients for life. The search for these chemical processes that could have led to the emergence of life on Mundus is known as "prebiotic chemistry."

Naturally, these findings will need to be verified once the samples are returned to Mundus in April, however, they are nonetheless an exciting find for members of the scientific community the world over. It remains to be seen if they will be corroborated in studies which will be undertaken in the years to come.

5
Vignettes / Re: In the Land of the Reed Plains
« on: March 15, 2024, 01:19:22 PM »
"The Sentinel"
11 March, 2024
07:30 PM
Ōta International Airport, Shinkyo


   It wasn't so much that Captain Fujio Uragami always hated flying—it was just another mode of transport—but rather, he hated what it meant on days like these. For most, it had been a day like any other, the start of the week. The sun had been out, the birds sang, and people more or less went about their normal business. Simply put, it was an ordinary day. But for the thirty-two year old Army captain, a day like this was anything but ordinary. When he first arrived at Kasen Air Force Base late last week, it had been for a task none enjoyed, but which was necessary and indeed honorable like few others. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this position—though he certainly hoped it would be the last—but what struck him the most was, from the moment when he first departed from the airport in Taikyū to his arrival here in the capital, everyone seemed to know what was going on, what he was there to do, and in a way, it managed to make this time seem different than before. After all, before last year, the Empire had known peace for the better part of a decade, and it had been exceedingly rare for one of their boys to come home only in body.

   Private First Class Yukio Aizawa, age nineteen. He thought to himself as the rain pelted down around him on the tarmac, his normally khaki-colored uniform turned dark as it became drenched. It was uncomfortable, but he could sacrifice his own comfort to ensure that his charge arrived home safe and sound. For that was the job he was performing, an escort for a fallen brother, killed in Kalasin, on this, his final journey. He knew not who he was in life, what his face was, nor who his family was, save perhaps for the briefing he had been given a few days prior, but as had been the case far too many times before, he felt a connection to his ward, even if they had never met when he yet drew breath. Just a child, a boy with the rest of his life ahead of him, but now, he would see nothing. He was gone, taken far before his time, and in his wake, a family was left destroyed. It was the same every time, but Fujio thought, as he stood silently as a sentinel over his charge, that it was a mercy that few knew the costs of the war like he did.

   Eventually though, the time would come to board the plane, Aizawa first, then him. He had checked the box which carried his fallen brother's coffin twice over, ensuring everything was in order, that no harm had been done to it—to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a crowd of people gathered up in the terminal, all unmoving as the final preparations were to be made. It was people like them that PFC Aizawa had died to defend, the same that he had joined to serve. They knew, just like everyone else, what he was there for. And while it was not for him, it would no doubt be comforting for the family to know that the nation mourned with them. With a salute, silent as it was, the body was loaded aboard the aircraft, and soon enough, Fujio would join him on this, his final flight. He wondered, privately, as the aircraft took off about how he would handle meeting the family. What they were like, how they would see him, how they were holding up. Poorly, he figured, but that was far too broad of an assumption. All he knew for certain was that he would bring him home, and that was what mattered.

   And of course, he knew this wasn't the last time he would see this.

6
Dawn of a New Age
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
August 5th, 1945
8:10 AM


   Ever since that day, Yuna’s desire to return home had waned; she still planned to visit, even if she hadn’t ultimately made up her mind if she would stay in Hatsukaichi or not. Her father had put it best, in a letter he’d sent, and all the way from Shinkyo, no less. ”Running will only make the pain worse in the end.” He’d said. A man with his experience would know. After all, that’s why he’d come to Hatsukaichi all those years ago. Supposedly, he’d been summoned to the capital by some important figure in the government, but to what end, he never said. What mattered was that when she crossed over the mountains, back to the town of her birth, he would not be there. It would just be her mother and Ikuko, and of course her cousins across the bay.

   When she’d announced her plans, back on the evening of the 28th, everything had changed once again. For her and Iwao, it had been… complicated, suffice to say. They’d hardly spoken, if only to make their parting somewhat easier, but they both knew they’d miss one another, no matter how long it might be. The house had changed in other ways, too; on top of the five of them—Daisaku, Natsumi, Azumi, Iwao, and herself—they were now also hosting her father-in-law’s sister and brother-in-law, at least until they could afford to rebuild their own home or move somewhere else. It had certainly been an adjustment, having the seven of them under one roof, but soon, that might not be her problem anymore. And of course, Azumi had slowly but surely come back around to her, though they still didn’t exactly speak too often. She couldn’t really blame her, though.

   It was a difficult time, no matter how you spun it.

   Even so, life had to go on. And just because she was to leave for Hatsukaichi soon didn’t mean she didn’t have work to do. Far from it, in fact. So here she was, sweeping the floors since that didn’t require her to have two hands to do. She could see Azumi sewing something out of the clothes that Ikuko had gifted them, though she wouldn’t say what it was she was using them for. And of course, outside, it was a peaceful, summer day; the cicadas were chirping, and a gentle breeze was blowing in the treetops. It was, simply put, ordinary. The kind of day you’d forget at first, but look back on fondly as you got older. Certainly, it was more peaceful than Hatsukaichi during the festival that was supposed to happen today.
   “Say, when are you supposed to be leaving?” Azumi asked her, though her gaze was still fixed on her needlework. “Y’know, for your appointment?”
   “Oh, that’s… About ten?” Yuna replied, placing the broom on the floor before grabbing a dustpan. “I don’t need help getting over there, if that’s why you’re asking.”
   “That’s fine.” Azumi smiled, though Yuna likely didn’t catch a glimpse of it. “I’m just glad to see you’re doing alright.”

   That was the first time she’d heard her say that since the accident. Back then, she’d blamed her, but this was… something different. And once again, someone was telling her they were glad about something. But this time, in a way, she could at least share the sentiment. It was something to be glad about, she supposed, even if the circumstances were not.
   “Come to think of it, isn’t today your hometown’s festival?” Azumi asked. “Yeah. I was gonna go home on the second, but I couldn’t get an appointment until today.”
   “You’re not going to make it in time.” Azumi said, seemingly finding a way to rain on her parade even now. “Besides, the doctors are all very busy, especially after last week, and of course, you’ll probably just get a referral to a hospital in the city. And that’s before we get to how hard it is just getting a train ticket these days.”

   Perhaps she was right. If it had been easier for Ikuko to get here in the back of an army truck, then what hope did she have of getting a ticket? But getting a referral wasn’t really an issue to her; as it happened, that was the plan seeing as she was going to be in Hatsukaichi for a long time by the look of things. Still, it was disheartening that she wouldn’t be attending the festival, which had celebrated the start of the harvest season in the region since forever. She remembered how she’d often help out her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, and the families of her friends with preparations in those olden days, now gone. But her thoughts were soon interrupted when she heard something land next to her; the clothing which her sister had brought her, taken apart and fashioned into something new.
   “I went ahead and turned the clothes your sister brought into a pair of trousers.” Azumi said, taking a seat next to her. “I sewed an elastic band in so you could put them on yourself.”
   “Oh, thank you.” Yuna said quietly as she looked down at them. Somehow, they’d managed to go from looking like a bundle of rags into something that looked almost brand new. A testament to her sister-in-law’s skill with a needle, she thought.
   “Yuna… I’d like to apologize for, you know… blaming you for Kahori’s death.” Azumi said after a moment.
   “It’s no problem.” Yuna responded; she’d come to internalize it to an extent, but she understood that what had been said was born from grief rather than any anger towards her. She’d been desperate to get her daughter back, even if it were impossible, and frankly, that was something they’d shared.
   “Yuna, listen. The man I loved died at sea, long before his time. His family’s shop—our home—was torn down in the pruning last year...” She hesitated for a moment. “...And now, I can’t see either of my children for a whole host of reasons. Is all of that unfair? Yes. Sad? Yes. But I wouldn’t dare say I’m unhappy, seeing—”she continued. “—as this is the life I chose for myself, after all.” She added, looking at Yuna for a moment. “You’re different, Yuna. You came so far, moved into a distant and unfamiliar home to marry someone you didn’t know. You always did what you were asked, always carried yourself with a smile. It must’ve been hard.” Azumi said, taking her hand. “I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that you want to leave, that’s up to you. But so long as you don’t hate it here, you’ll always have a home here, Yuna.”

   Yuna was silent as she spoke; in a way, Azumi was correct, though not entirely. Everyone chose the path they took in life, to some degree, and she’d agreed to get married, to come here, a city she didn’t know. But even so, she hadn’t chosen to lose her hand, to see Kahori die before her eyes. She didn’t choose to live in a city which was now merely a pile of ash amid ruins. And it was sad, all of it, but that was just life dealing her a bad hand. Not like she could go back now.
   “Don’t worry about what everyone will say. That choice is yours, and yours alone.” Azumi said. “But just so you know, doing chores and helping you when you need it isn’t a problem for me. In fact, I like doing it. And besides, it’ll help me keep my mind off… You know.”

   And in that moment, at 8:15 according to the clock, there was a bright flash which filled every nook and cranny of the house. Though they didn’t know it, it spread beyond the horizon, all-encompassing in that instant. It was like… Well, no, it was like nothing they’d ever seen before. Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it came, and it had left Yuna and Azumi confused. And evidently, not just them.
   “Azumi, Yuna, did either of you see that flash?” Natsumi called out to the two of them.
   “Yeah, we both did!” Azumi answered before saying “Was it lightning, maybe? But it’s such a nice day out…”
   “I… I changed my mind.” Yuna said after a moment. “Do you… Do you mind if I stay, after all?” She asked, her voice almost fragile as she held onto Azumi’s arm.
   “Of course, of course. I said as much, didn’t I? Now please, let go, it’s already hot as it is.” Azumi replied, but she wouldn’t be trying to get her off, not a moment afterwards when the shaking began. In fact, it led to them holding one another tighter as the day just became stranger and stranger. It felt as though it were an earthquake, but an earthquake didn’t usually follow a bright flash like what they saw. Some of the tiles fell off the roof, shattering as they hit the ground, and it felt as though the glass panes on the windows might break as well, but soon enough, at most ten seconds later, the tremors stopped, and everything returned to normal.
8:18 AM

   For nearly two minutes after the “earthquake” had hit the house, Azumi had been trying to get the family radio working, but to no avail. YOFK was silent, as were all of the other local stations, and any of the more distant ones like the station out of Toyono, a city about a hundred kilometers up the coast from them, were just as confused. But soon, they’d have their answer as to what had happened, at least in part. For from the yard, Daisuke, having just returned from work after spending the night on duty, called out to them.
   “Come out here, take a look at this!” He shouted, pointing out towards the mountains—towards Hatsukaichi—as everyone rushed outside. And before them, rapidly rising into the sky, a cloud like none they’d ever seen before. It looked almost as if it were a thundercloud, but something seemed off about it. It had a strange glint to it as it soared to greater and greater heights, and they all just stood there in awe and terror.

   One thing was certain: the world would never be the same again.

7
The Coward
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
July 28th, 1945
7:00 AM


   The raids had gotten worse since I last saw Ikuko. Every day, the Ardians would come back, tearing into the city like a flock of vultures would a dead animal. There was no sense to it, I thought as I went out for my early morning walk around the district; after all, the fleet had all but abandoned the city in favor of surrounding islands, and there was hardly any manufacturing going on here anymore, either. But come, they did, becoming just another part of daily life. A life which could be snuffed out at any moment with only a few minutes of warning prior. Truthfully, I was tired; just yesterday, the city had been attacked on nine separate occasions, and as a result, I got very little sleep. If it weren’t for the doctor’s orders that I get up and move around, I think I might’ve just stayed in bed.

   I could hear the squawking of a couple herons overhead, blissfully unaware of the danger that now encompassed Kyūre and other towns. I had no such luxury; at any moment, another attack could happen, and right now, I was exposed. And then, almost as if the universe had decided to play games with me in particular, that ever-familiar drone of the sirens came back, and before I knew it, I was running. I imagined myself yelling at the Herons, that it was unsafe for them and that they should cross the mountains to Hatsukaichi, but in truth, those words were for me. I felt unsafe here, that I didn’t belong, and Ikuko’s offer had grown more and more tempting with each passing day. Obviously, I needed to get home, but I soon stopped in the middle of the road, seeing aircraft above barrelling towards me. They opened fire, and at that moment, I was sure that I was dead. To hesitate was to die at times like these. I felt myself go flying before landing in a ditch, but when I opened my eyes, I was still alive.
   “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?” I heard Iwao shout as he held me down in the ditch, bullets whizzing overhead.
   “I’m sorry, it’s just…” I replied, but my mind went blank. I was scared; how could I not be? It was like that day all over again, the day that we lost Kahori, and though some part of me wished I had been taken with her, I now felt that I owed it to everyone to live for her sake. But I had to say something, anything, even if it might not have been the entire truth. “A heron.” I bit my lip. What a poor excuse. “I saw a heron fly by, and I got distracted.”
   “A… heron?” Iwao asked, sitting up in the ditch once the aircraft had flown off. “I saw it too. I think it flew away to the sea. Probably died.”

   It probably died. That was it, wasn’t it. To stay in Kyūre was to die, as the heron had. To flee, to find safe harbor across the mountains, that would allow me to live. I thought for a moment about what Ikuko had said to me, the last time we spoke. ”I’d like for you to come home. To Hatsukaichi.” She said. ”There aren’t any raids on the city.” If that was true, then why did I wait? Why did I hesitate? I had to say something about it, and there really wasn’t a gentle way to put it given both the circumstances and what it might mean for the two of us.
   “Iwao, I… I want to return to Hatsukaichi.” I finally said as we ducked again, an aircraft flying overhead and strafing the street nearby.
“What, and never come back?” He asked, confused by what I was saying, and though, looking back on it now, I didn’t mean it that way, I didn’t say that. At that moment, I just wanted to go home. To return to the life I had once known, to times more simple than my own. “Is it because you lost your hand? Are you afraid of the attacks?” He asked, and it was true on both accounts. “Or… Is it because of what happened to Kahori?” That too, most of all. But I was silent, and in a way, I couldn’t hear him. Not literally, of course, but I wouldn’t listen. “Say something! Anything!” He said, raising his voice, to which I responded with a firm “No!”

A moment passed, practically as short as a heartbeat, before he said anything. I suppose my face betrayed my words, since it was impossible to deny what I felt. I was terrified. Terrified that I would never recover, that I was forever crippled and had no hope for a future. Terrified that any day now, I could be walking down the road and then I would be gone. And most of all, terrified that I might lose someone like I had my niece. And now, I felt I had only two options before me, those being to run or to face all that had happened. And at that moment, I was a coward. I’d promised that I would protect my family, that I would keep everyone safe, and what had that gotten me? I had lost my arm, gotten my niece killed, and now, I was face to face with the man I had failed. What choice did I have but to run?
   “Yuna, I enjoyed every minute of it.” He told me as we sat up again. “These last two years, I… Enjoyed coming home, having a life that you were a part of. I loved going for strolls with you and just talking. Didn’t you? Or were you just pretending!?”

   I wanted to respond, to say that it hadn’t been some sort of a ruse, but with the airplanes circling overhead, with the bullets ricocheting all around, I could hardly respond properly. It would only be once the raid had come to an end that I would finally find the words to respond.
   “You want the truth, Iwao? Fine.” I said as the all-clear went out and life went back to some semblance of normal. “I never once was ‘pretending’, even when I first arrived. But you were right about something.” I said as we stepped out of the ditch. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, but I am scared. Scared that any day now, I’ll either lose you or someone else, like I did Kahori.”
   “Then why didn’t you say so?” Iwao asked me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I didn’t think he’d be so quick to forgive, if that was what was going on anyways. “I can see that you’re hurting, Yuna. And frankly, I don’t blame you for wanting to leave, and I won’t stop you if you do. Frankly, if it weren’t for my duties here, I would go with you, but… Surely this isn’t the end, is it?”
   “I don’t want it to be.” I said, embracing him with tears in my eyes. “So let’s not make this a goodbye.”

8
”I’m Glad”
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
July 19th, 1945
9:18 AM


   It was an odd pair of phrases, ”I’m glad” and ”It’s good.” Yuna thought as she looked down at the bandaged stump that was once her right hand. She’d heard it over and over again for the last few weeks, whether from friends, family, or even from complete strangers. Glad that she was alive, that the house hadn’t been lost, that she was healing rather quickly. So many things they said that they were glad for, and yet, she couldn’t help but wonder what she should be glad about, what was so good about any of what had happened. It was all wrong. So very, very wrong. It had only been a few weeks ago that she’d learned that her right hand was gone. The same hand that once grabbed Kahori’s hand in June. The same hand that she’d used to draw her husband’s face in May. The same hand that had helped Ikuko cross the bay ten years ago.

   How was she holding up, Yuna thought to herself. They’d only had a short while to talk to one another back in November, and she didn’t take the news about their brother all too well. They’d tried to keep in touch though, albeit by letter, but even these had stopped since the accident. She wasn’t so good at writing with her left hand anyways, so it was probably to be expected, but… Ikuko hadn’t sent anything, either. Her parents had, but it was pretty much complete silence from her. Maybe she was just too busy? That was probably it; she had been one of the more industrious Kimuras, after all, but… Between all that had happened with Isao and now her, she couldn’t blame her if it was a little bit difficult. And if she was going to visit, it would’ve been next to impossible for the first few weeks anyways, just due to travel restrictions.

   And as though fate had decided to toy with her again, the door slid open, and someone stepped in. Probably just Natsumi, coming by to check on her again, but maybe, just maybe it was another visitor, seeing as the only other alternative was her sister-in-law, who had just about stopped talking to her anymore. She couldn’t help but wonder if her sister-in-law had simply been feeling guilt about what she had said to her earlier or if it were simply another manifestation of her grief. For all she knew, it might’ve been both. Either way, with regards to who had come to visit, she’d soon have the answer anyway.
   “Your sister’s here.” Natsumi said, at which point Yuna’s attention slowly shifted from her hand.
   “Oh, how horrible, Yuna.” Ikuko said as she entered the room; in her hands was a parcel of some sort, likely containing some sort of fabric based on how it slumped against her arms.
   “Ikuko? You… came to see me?” Yuna asked, her face almost lighting up upon seeing her.
   “Of course. You probably don’t remember, but I came by the day after…”
   “After Kahori died.”
   “Right. You were still out cold, though.”
   “I’m gonna be honest, I’m surprised you could even make it out here.” Yuna said as she sat up on her futon. “I thought the Army was still imposing its restrictions on travel.” She added as her sister took a seat beside her.
   “Oh, they are.” Ikuko answered. “You remember that officer I told you about, back when you came to visit last year?” She asked, to which her sister nodded in response. “Well, he wound up getting assigned to help transport supplies out here from Hatsukaichi, and he’s been allowing me to hitch a ride on his truck.”
   “I see… What’s his name?” Yuna inquired, head tilted.
   “Hm? Oh, Hiroki.”
   “Well, you’d best give this ‘Lt. Hiroki’ my thanks.” Yuna smiled. “So, what’s in the package?”
   “Oh, right.” Ikuko said, quickly grabbing it and opening it. “Just some old clothes, hand-me-downs that some of my friends from work gave me. I know, they’re old, but they’re pure cotton.”
   “Pure? So, no rayon?” Yuna asked, surprised that she’d even been able to find it. Ever since ‘39, the government had mandated that all cotton yarn be blended with the stuff, which meant it was… not exactly very durable. Actually wound up putting the family business under and forcing her father to rejoin the military, even if as an overseer for an arsenal.
   “Indeed. ‘Course, now I owe them, but for you, it’s worth it.”

   A few moments passed as they continued to talk, during which time Azumi would quickly drop by and serve the two of them tea. It was hardly what could be considered “good”, but it was the gesture that mattered more than quality. Besides, with how hard it had become to afford even such a simple luxury, you’d need to take what you could get. Even so, she still remained silent as she first entered and then left the room, and so too were they. Yuna could’ve sworn that she heard Ikuko apologize, even if quietly, but that was about it. Once she had left, though, they would get back to talking amongst themselves.
   “I suppose I should thank you.” Yuna said after a moment, looking down at the clothing. It had certainly seen better days, but then again, so had she.
   “It’s nothing, honestly. I’d like to imagine you would’ve done the same, were our roles reversed.”
   “No need to imagine, you know I would.” Yuna said, to which Ikuko nodded in agreement.

   Some time would pass, and the hour would soon grow late. It had been quite surprising, truth be told, just how quickly the day had passed, but everything had its appointed hour, and this was the one where her sister had to leave. They had, of course, enjoyed the time they spent together; in many ways, like they had been as children, they were still each other’s best friend, if not their first. But that didn’t mean that schedules couldn’t be kept. Far from it, in fact.
   “Well, I’d best be going.” Ikuko said, grabbing her things with a smile. So innocent, much like Kahori, and a sight all too rare these days. Yuna had hoped and prayed that she would survive the war unscathed, unshaken by all that had happened, and so far, it seemed like it might stay that way. But as her father had taught her, it was best to cherish the moments you had with those you loved, and so, she’d make a decision which, though perhaps foolish given the state she was in, was one she would have to commit to.
   “Tell you what, I’ll walk you half-way.” She replied. And so, a couple minutes would pass as they got ready to leave, but eventually, they were off.
Nikokyo, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
3:26 PM


   I had come to regret my decision, tagging along, even if I wasn’t walking the whole way. It wasn’t the distance, nor was it my still-healing arm that was the trouble, but rather, the heat. It was unseasonably warm out, even for this time of year, and it was further compounded by most of the trees being burned away on the 1st of July. And that was before we even reached the city proper. Hiroioki had taken a beating, to be sure, but nothing could compare to what was before us. Though I didn’t know if she felt the same, it seemed to me like the world was spiraling out of control, and I had been merely a vicarious bystander who wound up getting unlucky.
   “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Ikuko asked me as we descended the hill, probably because I’d nearly tripped going down it. I could never understand why anyone would want to live at the top of such a steep hill, let alone put a road going up this part of it. “Yeah. I need the exercise anyway. Doctor’s orders.” I answered.

   A few minutes passed as we continued to climb down, and I got to thinking about Isao again. Just about every time he’d stop by to visit, he’d complain to me about the climb, especially after they’d finally scrapped the steam bus. Something to do with it just being incapable of going uphill, or so I’d been told, though she suspected it was more due to poor maintenance than anything else. As we walked, passing first into Hondori, I could tell just how bad the attacks had been. In spite of what we had thought, the idea that Kyūre was safe after so much had been burned was proving to be false. After all, we still didn’t go more than a few days at a time between air raids, and every so often, the harbor would be hit again, as would the surrounding buildings which had yet survived.
   “So, where are we going exactly?” I asked, stepping over some rubble which had fallen in the road.
   “Well, I’m supposed to meet him by the fire station.” Ikuko answered, still looking forward.
   “Ah, then you’ll want to look for the observation tower down by the river.” I replied, though come to think of it, was it still around? The fire had been pretty bad, even over there, so it wasn’t as though I knew for sure if it had survived. “Oh, wait, it probably burned down, didn’t it.”
   “Nope, it’s still there.” Ikuko responded. “Hiroki showed it to me on the way into town.” She added before positively gushing about him. “He’s so kind, y’know. He gives me ration coupons for lunch and movie tickets. And of course, he remembered that I have a sister out here, so…”
   “Sounds to me like you like him.” I teased her for a moment, which of course caused no small amount of embarrassment for my sister, which I too would feel once she started “lightly” patting me on the back. “What are you talking about, Yuna?” She joked as we continued to walk.

   It was nice, seeing that at least someone was so happy, even now that the world had been turned upside-down. That flowers could still bloom, even when by all accounts, the world they knew was dead. For some people, life just went on, unaware of the horrors that lurked not even a hundred kilometers away. Her old hometown must’ve been so peaceful, this time of year. Yet in Kyūre, so close-by, hell had arrived, and death yet lingered in the air. Two cities, so close yet so different, two lifestyles separate from one another. When this was all over, if anyone were left alive, would a place like Hatsukaichi be the same as before, or would it too be forever changed?

   Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve spoken to Iwao a whole lot since that day.

   “This place really got hit hard, didn’t it?” Ikuko asked me as we approached the city center. All around, just about as far as the eye could see, the city was flattened. A few people still lingered, living out of their shelters and trying to pick up the pieces as well as they could, but it would certainly be in vain the next time an attack happened. And there would be a next time, that was certain. Especially with the rumors that the Army was getting ready for something big, something which might hopefully put an end to the raids once and for all

 Of course, I didn’t understand why anyone would stay behind; after all, if their homes were burnt down, why not just leave? We stopped by the side of the road, near where some incense had been placed where someone had died, and we offered a prayer for them. Ikuko seemed surprised that someone had died here, let alone that the body hadn’t been dealt with so far, yet I’ve walked by people lying dead in the street without so much as batting an eye. It had just become ordinary, a part of the daily routine.
   “Kyūre keeps getting bombed endlessly… How can people keep living with it?” She asked me as she stood up from the impromptu shrine, surrounded by water from a burst pipe. “Why, that attack at the start of the month was so bad that we could see the sky turning red, even from home.”

   I think I knew, at that moment, what was wrong. My sister was only a year younger than me, but I knew that I was the one who was all wrong. Warped by the war like a world drawn with my left hand.

   “So, uh… With your… Your hand being the way it is, it must be hard, helping the Umekis.” She said, turning to look at me. “The point I’m trying to make is… Well. The point is, I’d like for you to come home. To Hatsukaichi.” I was, of course, surprised by the request; I hadn’t even really considered it an option until she said it, and I didn’t know if I could leave everyone—everything—behind again. Not now. “There aren’t any raids on the city, and I know, it won’t be the same now that Isao’s gone, but… It would do your mother so much good if you were around.” That was a good point, I thought privately; not my brother being gone, but everything else. I’m glad. I thought to myself before I answered.
“...It’s a tempting offer.” I looked away, a smirk on my face as I thought of what else I could say. “Maybe I’ll come and see if this officer ‘friend’ of yours is as handsome as you say he is.” I teased yet again.
   “That’s not funny!” Ikuko said in a slightly higher-pitched voice than usual.
   “I kid, I kid.” I said, trying to defuse the situation just in case.
   “Sure you do.” Ikuko replied before saying “It’s a good idea though.” before leaving. But before she got too far, she turned around and shouted something about the upcoming festival, set for the 5th of August, as well as that she ought to come home soon. And yet, I was undecided. One thing I knew, though, was that because I was so tempted to run away, my brother would be disappointed.

   And because of that, I was glad he wasn’t around anymore.

9
Fire on the Mountain, Part Two
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
July 2nd, 1945
8:32 AM


   In the distance, someone shouted about rice from Hatsukaichi, a donation from their larger neighbor, yet few seemed ready to listen. Overnight, Hiroioki’s population had nearly quadrupled as residents of the city proper fled to the mountains, and even the Umeki residence, damaged by last night’s raid, had become a temporary shelter, at least for the moment. So many were injured, Yuna thought, some worse than even she. It certainly was enough to give her pause, yet she couldn’t do much but help out where she could. Would her brother be proud of her, helping others so soon after she had been so badly hurt, or would he think she was an idiot? Probably the latter, but in her heart, she knew she had to do it.

   There was some good to come from this, if you could call it that, as the disaster had brought the community together in a way which no amount of tonarigumi meetings could. Everyone helped where they could, tending to the wounded if able and if not, then watching over the young or helping in other ways. It had also brought old faces together, including Hiroyo and Entaro, Yuna’s “aunt” and “uncle” by marriage, so at least they could take it easy knowing that they were alright. Mostly. Like so many others, they had lost their homes and livelihoods, victims of a war that the Ardians had brought to their shores. Perhaps it was noble to fight on after all, and not merely some delusion of General Sonyu’s. If this was what they were willing to do without boots on the ground, then who could imagine what they’d do upon landing here? They had to fight, just as their allies did across the sea.
   “Excuse me, Mrs. Umeki?” One of the wounded asked Yuna, though she didn’t at first notice. It still felt a little strange to be called that, she thought when she heard it. “D-do you think I can borrow some of these bandages?”
   “By all means.” She answered before grabbing a bucket and heading towards the fields. She may have been wounded, but now was not the time to just sit down and do nothing. That would just allow her to dwell on her thoughts, which… wasn’t ideal. Even so, as she walked along the path, she looked out towards the coast, to where smoke and flame still rose, albeit greatly reduced from the night before.

   It was all gone.

   That wasn’t an exaggeration, either. There was hardly a building left standing, a tree left unscorched, a road not covered in debris. The city of Kyūre, the home of Ardia’s “greatest naval yard”, as Iwao had put it, seemed scoured from the face of the earth. So much suffering, so much pain, so much death. Even this far from the city center, spared as they were from the worst of the bombing, the smell of smoke and of death was difficult to ignore. Likewise, the fear that Iwao might’ve been caught up in that was impossible to dismiss. She hoped and prayed that he’d gotten out alive, that he hadn’t wound up like she had. He had certainly gone through enough already—assuming, of course, he knew about Kahori—to go through that. Nobody should have to live through this. Not her, not her family, no one. And what did they seek to achieve, anyways? Did the Ardians seriously think that they would bow to violence? No! If Constantine Devaux wanted peace, he wouldn’t make the people of Fusan steel themselves for the invasion of the mainland that was sure to come. He would surrender while he had the chance, spare the lives of millions.

   Instead, it would have to be a battle for survival in the embers of the old world, one that would surely preserve the nation. She watched as a handful of trucks with both army and navy markings drove in and out of town; those going in brought supplies, troops, and workers—or at least, people who looked like workers—to relieve the beleaguered city, while those leaving almost invariably bore the wounded and dead to hospitals in the nearby towns. The trains had already been brought back into service as well, which would certainly help with relief efforts, but what was there that was even left? The city was dead, plain and simple. No longer a target, yes, but no longer a city, either.

   “It’s all gone… Burnt flat as far as I can see.” One of her neighbors, one Chiho Asayama, said as she and Kyoko Fukumori—the very same Fukumori who had visited yesterday—sat on the ledge near the graveyard along the way to the terrace. “Even the temple’s gone.”
   “Such a shame. I rather liked that place.” Kyoko replied, barely noticing Yuna as they continued to talk and watch the fires below.

   That had been a place Yuna had wanted to visit one day. It was where Azumi had found work—not as a nun; she didn’t have the patience for that—but rather helping around where possible, at least whenever the WVC didn’t have work for her. She’d seen it many times, of course, since it was pretty much directly on the way into town from Hiroioki, but somehow, she’d never found the time to visit. Now, she’d never have that chance. Sure, they’d rebuild if they could find the funds, but that would be many years from now, and by then, it wouldn’t be the same. She soon heard footsteps coming close to her, rather quickly too, but she paid them no mind. It was only when she heard that most familiar voice that she stopped in her tracks.

   “Yuna!” Iwao exclaimed, stopping in front of her. His outfit was in tatters, his face weary, but he was alive. Yet by the look on his face, he seemed more concerned than anything else; how could he not? “Are you hurt?” He asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. It took her a moment for everything to set in, to process her thoughts upon seeing him, and in the end, there was only one question on her mind.
   “Wh-what about your training?” She asked, putting aside everything else for the moment.
   “It got canceled. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still alive.” He said, looking briefly at her arm before letting her go. For some reason, one which eluded her then, she felt exhausted, as though a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. And in the end, all she could say was “I’m sorry.” before the fatigue claimed her and she passed out in his arms.
6:16 PM

   Some time passed before she awoke again, finding herself back home and in bed. Everyone had left by now, moved on to other parts of Hiroioki or to the other districts which had survived the attack. Daisaku was still at work—she’d seen him briefly return home early in the morning before heading back out—and Natsumi was outside cleaning the bandages. Azumi was not there either, though she was probably in the shelter with Kahori’s ashes. She hadn’t left her side since the night before, save perhaps to help out early in the morning, but not afterwards. The only person inside, other than Yuna herself, was Iwao, who was holding her hand in his as he sat besides her.
   “Careful, now. Don’t want to strain yourself too much.” He said as she tried to sit up.
   “I’m fine.” Yuna answered.
   “You know that’s not true.” Iwao pointed out. “Believe me, I know.”
   “...fair enough.”
   “I was gonna tell you before you, uh, passed out, but-” Iwao spoke up. “-as of today, I have officially completed my training.”
   “I thought you said they canceled it?” Yuna asked, perplexed.
   “They did, but with the base getting torched, they figured it’d be easier to formally induct us now than to move us halfway across the country to finish.”
   “Does that mean-”
   “Yes. I’m gonna be allowed to stay… home, at least for now.”

   A few moments passed; it had to be the longest five seconds Yuna had known. An awkward silence had filled the room, and they both knew why. After all, it was hard to ignore, having left quite the hole in things.
   “Man. That bomb sure did a number on the roof, didn’t it.” Iwao said, looking up at the ceiling. “I heard from mom, how you… Well, how you saved the place.”
   “It was nothing.” Yuna said, quietly.
   “That’s not what I heard. You did well, Yuna.”

   It was clear that neither of them really wanted to talk about what had happened just a week prior, so much so that they’d rather talk about the hole in the roof rather than the gaping hole in their family. Unlike the roof, it was something that couldn’t really be mended, and it would have to stick with them for the rest of their lives. After all, the laughter that had once filled this old house was gone, perhaps for good though neither of them hoped so. Kahori’s absence was impossible to ignore.
   “It’s not your fault, y’know." Iwao said, placing his arm around her shoulder. “I heard from dad about what happened. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He added, though Yuna remained silent for the time being. “The point is-” he bit his lip. “-if I had been there, it would’ve made no difference. It was an accident.”
   “N-no, it wasn’t.” Yuna said, her eyes glistening in the evening sun. “I could’ve done more, I could’ve-”
   “You did everything you could. I’m just glad you’re still alive.” Iwao said, holding her close as she began to sob uncontrollably.

   But in her mind, she still blamed herself.

10
Fire on the Mountain, Part One
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
July 1st, 1945
11:45 PM


   It was almost pitch-black outside, the skies heavily overcast as rain fell gently from above. Just a few minutes of decent weather all day, Yuna had thought as she lay in bed, before the darkness returned. It seemed almost fitting, given the circumstances, but in the moments that she wasn’t in pain, her mind was free to wander, most often to the day that everything changed, the day that Kahori died. How long had it truly been, she wondered when her father-in-law left for work that morning. For him to be up and about, it had to have been some span of time, at the very least. A day? A week? A month? The passage of time had bled together, and she’d hardly paid attention to the rising and setting of the sun. To tell the truth, she didn’t care anymore.

   Murderer.

   That’s what Azumi had called her, and as she looked at the family’s shrine, where poor, young Kahori’s ashes sat in a box, she couldn’t help but agree. She could’ve taken another route to the station. She could’ve not stopped on the way back to the station. She could’ve done so much to prevent this, but she didn’t. And to make matters worse, whenever someone would come to visit, as Mrs. Fukumori—one of their neighbors—had earlier in the day, they’d look at her with pity. She survived, and they pitied her. What sense was there in that, pitying someone who was so inattentive that she got her own niece killed in such a preventable fashion? No. The last thing she needed was pity. That was for the innocent, not for her.

   Do you think you could draw Hisao for me next?

   Her last words, at least, the last that Yuna ever heard. Her memory of that day was at times both vivid and fragmentary; she remembered the moments leading up to the explosion quite well, but afterwards, what few things she could recall, she didn’t want to remember. She could remember, between moments of consciousness, seeing as first responders scraped what little remained of Kahori off the ground. She could remember the hospital being so full that not only was she given just the bare minimum of treatment before being sent home, but that her father-in-law had been sent home with them. And of course, she remembered how Azumi had seen her afterwards. She was still in pain, but then again, everyone was. The war had truly come home now; it wasn’t like her brother going missing—presumed dead—in Toshima. She’d directly witnessed the death of a loved one, perhaps even, in some small way, caused it.

   Yet when the now ever-familiar tones of the radio issued forth, what thoughts she had at the time quickly faded away. Outside, it was so dark that, were it not for the searchlights which guided the local AA battery’s fire, one might not be able to see more than a couple dozen meters away.
   ”The central region’s office of civil defense reports: 23:50. Two groups were observed over Hatsukaichi bay. Furthermore, there are two groups over the Hinase strait and two over the Kitan channel. In the southwest, there are…” The presenter prattled on. Off in the distance, engines could be heard, though surely they’d have some time left before whatever was coming would arrive.
   “Are you awake, Yuna?” Natsumi asked, opening the door to her room. For her part, Yuna had, in fact, been awake for a while, and had been getting ready to evacuate the building; she had, however, run into some trouble with her hood. These hoods had been in use for a while by now, yet she never quite understood their use. All it might do is prevent dust from getting into her hair, which now seemed so inconsequential to her.
   “I am.” She answered as Azumi began removing the shoji doors as instructed by countless meetings of the tonarigumi.

   A few minutes would pass as everyone present did what they could to prepare. The once faint buzzing of aircraft engines had given way to a most furious roar, perhaps louder than they had been anytime before. By two minutes before midnight, they had become impossible to ignore, which of course meant it was time to get into the shelter.
   “Look at that, they’re saying that there are many airplanes, but I tell you, I can’t see them.” Natsumi said, helped by her daughter on their way to the shelter. Almost as soon as they stepped down from the porch, a bright yellow light filled the sky as flares began to fall from above. No doubt, it was either some sort of signal or simply a means of illuminating the city for the enemy. It was a strangely beautiful sight, like the attack on the 16th of March or the first time she saw a condensation trail.
   “Yuna, c’mon! Quickly now!” Someone, perhaps Azumi or perhaps one of the Arikawas, said, and yet, she did not move. Why couldn’t she move? She might’ve thought it was beautiful, in its own way anyways, but she knew to run from that which was beautiful if it was still a threat. Fear? They hadn’t attacked yet, but perhaps that was part of it. No, it was something else. Soon enough, a new sound filled the air, almost like the shattering of glass mixed with the ruffling of paper, and light fell from the sky before striking the ground with a loud bang, setting alight all that surrounded them.

   It was guilt. That’s what she felt, even as one of the incendiary bombs crashed through the roof but did not explode like the others. In that moment, she wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t sad, hell, she wasn’t even happy—if one could call it that—about what had happened. She was just tired, tired of the grief, of the pain, of the guilt. She felt angry, yet not because they had been attacked; rather, she was disappointed that it hadn’t landed a meter closer and took her with it. It would’ve been what she deserved, after all. But then, with tears in her eyes as she looked at the bomb, she remembered what she had been asked just a short while ago.

   ”Are you going to be alright?”

   Was this alright? Kahori was dead, she was maimed, and now, the house was about to go up like a tinderbox. What would Iwao think if all of them were gone? Would he be alright? She couldn’t bear to imagine it, yet so lost was she in her own thoughts that she could hardly do anything at all. Azumi once told her that she’d been brought here only to help out, yet Iwao had truly enjoyed her time with them. She had too, but… It felt as though she had only brought the Umekis pain and heartache. Would they be better off without her?
   “Yuna, where are you!?” Azumi shouted for her, a lone voice in the darkness which seemed to drown out the flame. Though she didn’t mean it that way, the question seemed almost perfect. “Where was she?” indeed. Home. Prison. Refuge. Torment. It seemed so conflicting, how she felt about this place, yet there was one thing, at the very least, which was certain: it needed to be protected. She soon ran, scanning the area for something, anything which might put it out. At the end of the porch, a pair of buckets full of water. She might’ve only had one arm, but she would have to manage. She hoisted one up, propping it up against the stump that once was her right hand, and ran like a bat out of hell with a great cry.
   “Water! I need more water!” She shouted as she tried—and failed—to extinguish the flames which threatened to consume their abode, soon resorting to using her futon to stamp it out, an act which was frankly foolish on a normal day and which singed the fringes of her clothes. She could hear the tramps of footsteps on the wooden floors getting closer.
   “Yuna, did one of them hit us?” Azumi asked before quickly stepping in to help. A precious few more seconds passed, and before she knew it, the fire was out. They wouldn’t look at the bomb, that small, rectangular thing, yet to think that such a device could do so much damage so quickly… They were lucky. If it had gone off, they would’ve lost the house and Yuna would’ve died. As Azumi, Natsumi, and a few of their neighbors helped to move the device, the buckets, and the now scorched futon out of the house, she would step towards the edge of the yard, exhausted, as she looked out towards the city below. A great breeze, warm to the touch, slammed against her face, and in shock, she could only look out and stare.

   Kyūre was burning.

11
Murderer
???

   I still remember, back when I was young, when my grandmother used to try and teach me to sew. I was always so terrible at it, even when I bothered to try, and whenever I’d fail, she’d tell me that I’d messed up and that with such horrible needlework, nobody would want to marry me. Of course, I’d answer by saying that if that were the case, then I would refuse to get married. How simple life used to be. Come to think of it, I must’ve been told something like that so many times, and yet here I was, married by the time I’d turned nineteen. Just a child, as Azumi might’ve called her. What would she think, if she saw me now? In my mind, I dwelt so often upon that road, where it all happened. I watched, in the few moments when I was conscious, as they scraped her off the ground, unable to move due to my wounds and unable to feel a thing. If only it’d had a ditch, then we might’ve been able to take shelter in it. I had my bag in my left hand, and in my right, Kahori. If it were the other way around, then would this have happened? If I had kicked off my sandals and ran, could we have made it beyond the hilltop? What was beyond that hill? Salvation, or just more pain?
   ”Over there's the Akitsukuni and the Tokai.” I heard that poor child’s voice over and over, the memories all swarming in my mind. The time she wanted to paint a bald spot. The day we tried to save our sugar. All the times we talked and we played together in the evenings. Oh, that laugh, how I missed it. I briefly opened my eyes, seeing a figure, though I couldn’t quite make out who it was. Natsumi, maybe? No, but it was someone familiar, at least. She looked so much like Iwao, I thought as I tried to remember.
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
???

   When I learned to sew after arriving here, Kahori would often join me, though she never really paid much attention. Getting scolded and told she’d never make a good bride… She wouldn’t even get to know how that felt, now. She wouldn’t get to know anything anymore. Kahori was dead, and yet I lived.
   “I should’ve come with you...” I heard someone say, someone familiar. That’s who I saw. I couldn’t tell if it had been weeks, months, or even years since that day, but I knew that voice.
   “I-I’m sorry…” I tried to say with a lump in my throat, but the words struggled to escape my mouth. I closed my eyes, and then I opened them once more, hoping that this was just a nightmare. Closed and opened. Closed and opened. I closed my eyes and opened them, but nothing changed. Where did I go wrong? “I’m sorry, Kahori! I’m sorry, Azumi!” I cried, yet my words fell on deaf ears. I only then realized just how bad it had been, for where my right arm had been, only a bandaged, bloody stump remained.
   “Murderer… You murderer!” Azumi cried, gripping the sheet which lay over my broken body. “You killed her! Give Kahori back, damn you!” She was right. I had never wanted this, but I could’ve saved her. I should’ve saved her. I promised I would protect her, that I would protect this home while Iwao was away, and yet, dead she was. Why didn’t I?
   “Don’t say that, Azumi.” Natsumi said in a gentle manner, helping her up and consoling her as she did so. She said something more, something about rations, but I couldn’t pay attention to that. How could I? I had gotten Kahori killed, and all because I’d wanted to spend more time with her. I was selfish at best, and a monster at worst. But soon, my vision faded to nothing, and by the time I awoke again, she was gone.
June 28th, 1945
3:10 PM

   My father once told me that everyone had a place in the world, that everyone had a purpose to their life that they had to learn for themselves. For him, it was in the army, then later in Hatsukaichi. My brother always seemed to belong to the heavens, and he paid the ultimate price for that. But what about me? Where was my place in this world? I once again thought of that day, of the road where she died. At that moment, where did I belong? In the garden. If I’d just stood there, been consumed in the flame, then I would’ve made it to where I really belonged. To where Kahori now was.
   “I’m sorry about what she said earlier, Yuna.” Natsumi told me as she helped me to sit up in bed before brushing my hair as if I were a child. “She’s grieving, so please, don’t let it get to you. We’re all glad that you’re still alive.”
   Glad? How could anyone be glad now? “Really?” I asked, almost expecting it to be a lie. After all, was it not normal to lie to the injured, if only to make them feel better?

   The sirens sounded again, and deep down, I felt conflicted as to whether I was scared or if I simply felt numb. Yet my father-in-law, who had been released the day after I was injured, told us he heard no engines, and so, we accepted that they would not come. Maybe it was a false alarm, but I’d never been so disappointed that we weren’t getting bombed before. I must’ve come out wrong.
   “Nothing will happen to us, right?” I asked as I laid back in bed.
   “Of course not.” Natsumi answered, perhaps trying to reassure me, but I could see in her eyes that she was scared to the bone.
   After a moment, I answered with words that I regretted. “I’m glad.” Lies, all of it. That lady whose house was destroyed… I wondered at that moment what had happened to her. Did she skip town? They tore her house down for her, so what better reason could she have needed? If our home was destroyed, would it be that easy for us, too?

12
International News Networks / Re: YHK (News from Fusan)
« on: March 02, 2024, 08:42:58 AM »

Asteroid Enters Lunar Orbit This Week

Heisuke Nakamura
03/02/2024

NASDA has successfully placed an asteroid into lunar orbit as part of its Asteroid Retrieval and Utilization (ARU) mission on Friday, marking the beginning of its efforts to study in depth the composition of Near-Mundus Asteroids, as well as marking its first successful redirection of an asteroid. While the agency has completed other missions to asteroids, the multi-billion Mon robotic explorer, named Prosperity, carries with it a docking port and several scientific experiments that will be performed by ūchunauts in Low Mundus Orbit. Already, preparations are reportedly underway for the crew of DSP Expedition 1, which departed from Zenshoen in late February, to briefly depart the station and rendezvous with Prosperity and the asteroid, 641376 Takenaka, sometime next week. The crew will spend three days at the asteroid, where they will conduct a number of EVAs and perform experiments with the object.

As far as asteroids go, Takenaka is on the smaller end, with a maximum diameter of just under six meters. Discovered in 2011, the asteroid appears to have an intensely dark surface that is known to reflect a number of unusual colors, this being in spite of long-exposure images released by NASDA which often depict it as a gray mass. Takenaka is a C-type asteroid, something which both made it difficult to discover and which made its discovery all the more interesting to researchers on Mundus, as it means that it is a so-called "Primitive Asteroid," one which could be rich in carbon, organic materials and frozen water. That means, according to NASDA, studying the asteroid could help "clarify interactions between the building blocks of Mundus and the evolution of its oceans and life," as well as to understand more about how the solar system works. But just because the asteroid has been recovered and will be visited doesn't mean that the agency is done with them. Already, planners are considering a visit to a similar asteroid as part of Sojourner's mission to Nergal in the coming years, likely following a flyby of Ishtar on the way home. Whatever may come of those plans, one thing can be certain: the next few weeks will be quite interesting for researchers at NASDA.
Scientists, AI May Have Solved Major Challenge for Fusion

Hajime Matsui
03/02/2024

Illuminating businesses and homes with the star-sustaining power of fusion will be one of the greatest engineering challenges in human history. In order to recreate the energy-generating physics at the center of our Sun—which uses a lot of gravity to squeeze atoms together—reactors on Mundus have to compensate for this lack of mass with an immense increase in heat. At around 100M °C, light nuclei in the form of an electron soup known as plasma can overcome strong electric repulsion and fuse via quantum tunneling. While that is a good thing, there is a problem involved: containing that ultra-hot plasma in the first place. That is because plasma has a tendency to escape the magnetic fields which contain it in a reactor, which immediately ends a fusion reactor when it happens. But scientists from Misaki University, as well as the Misaki Plasma Physics Laboratory (MPPL), are employing AI to avoid these plasma mishaps and hopefully keep future fusion reactions from this particular form of self-sabotage. Using Fusan's ISTX experimental fusion reactor in Katashina, researchers demonstrated that their AI model trained on experimental data could detect what are known as “tearing mode” instabilities—a type of plasma disruption when plasma-containing magnetic field lines break—sometimes as much as 300 milliseconds in advance. Although not enough time for humans to react, AI can readily change parameters to avoid the tear, and thus keep the reaction stable. The results of this work were published in the Fusanese Journal of Research (FJR) last week.

"Tearing mode instabilities are one of the major causes of plasma disruption, and they will become even more prominent as we try to run fusion reactions at the high powers required to produce enough energy,” first author Giichi Urata, a professor of Physics at Kudoyama University in Yakumo who performed the work as a postdoctoral researcher at Misaki, said in a statement. "Previous studies have generally focused on either suppressing or mitigating the effects of these tearing instabilities after they occur in the plasma, but our approach allows us to predict and avoid those instabilities before they ever appear.”

Teaching AI to control a fusion reaction is similar to how other AI models are trained for complicated tasks—a large amount of real-world data and ultra-quick pattern recognition. This AI model used a “reinforcement learning algorithm” that allowed the program to work out best containment methods via trial and error within a simulated environment. Eventually, the program learned to achieve high power output without the “punishment” of instability. Co-author Nae Sun-Yung, also a member of the Misaki group, compared training the model to learning to fly an aircraft, saying a controller needs lots of time on an intricate simulator before “they’ve learned enough to try out the real thing.”

Now that the AI has passed the real-world test with flying colors, the researchers say they need more data on the AI's performance at the ISTX reactor, and if all goes well, the team could begin training the program to recognize other fusion instabilities as well. But containing plasma in real-time is only one piece of the fusion puzzle. Engineers, for example, still need to develop new materials capable of withstanding the immense heat of fusion for not just minutes, hours, or days, but years if the technology has any hope of one day powering homes across the world. Fusion may very well be the greatest feat of engineering in human history, and it very well may also be the biggest in AI history, too.
Navy Prepares to Launch New Class of Submarine

Harunori Kōno
03/02/2024

A new predator will soon stalk the world's oceans and seas, as the Imperial Fusanese Navy prepares to launch the IFN Barakuda, the lead vessel of her class, later this month. The ship, with its complement of 125 sailors, marks the culmination of a decades-long effort to field a replacement for the fleet's Itachizame-class of diesel-electric hunter-killer submarines, which were retired at the turn of the new millennium. The vessel differs from its peers in the Navy's silent service by forgoing the ability to launch missiles, instead coming equipped with an impressive arsenal of torpedoes, including both Type 69 "HATEs" and the newer Type 75 ULTRA, whose range, though not officially stated by the navy, is believed to be in excess of 65 kilometers and can carry a 405 kg explosive warhead. The submarine is expected to be launched later this month and will begin its shakedown cruise on the 17th of April, coinciding with the year's Armed Forces Day celebrations.

13
Economics and Industry / Re: Zayasu Shipbuilding Co., Ltd.
« on: March 01, 2024, 05:47:19 AM »
Barakuda-class
Role
Nuclear Hunter-Killer Submarine (SSKN)
Crew & Complement
125
Length
131 m
Beam
13.1 m
Speed
60 km/h (32.4 knots)
Range
Unlimited
Armament
16 × 711 mm torpedo tubes
Other Capabilities
Cool shit it does
Cost
$2.4 billion
NOT FOR SALE
Background
The Barakuda-class is a predator. Designed solely to hunt and kill high-performance submarines (though more than capable of targeting other vessels), she is the spawn of the cancelled Itachizame-class and a Third Offset submersible vessel with a speed comparable to the Normandy-class while producing noise to a lesser degree than either Itachizame or Rokkenjima's Rorqual-class. Unlike most modern submarines, the Barakuda-class forgoes vertical launch tubes, instead utilizing sixteen 711 mm (28-inch) torpedo tubes with a triple-deck automated torpedo room. These massive tubes are capable of launching any weapon rated for underwater service, while her primary weapon is planned to be the Type 75 ULTRA, a 711 mm torpedo specifically designed for the new class. It is also capable of firing sleeved Type 69 HATEs (Heavyweight Attack Torpedo, Enhanced) and older Type 48 ADCAPs. The vessel's S8Z PWR reactor has unparalleled energy density and, paired with the ship’s hydrogen fuel cells, allows the class to be practically undetectable by passive sonar.

14
Delayed
Nikokyo, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
June 25th, 1945
9:18 AM


   It was a sound which Yuna had unfortunately grown used to, the vicious wails of air raid sirens. Most of the time, they’d been sounded as a result of false alarms or for aircraft that would ultimately hit elsewhere, yet not today. Daisaku had always said to make sure if you can hear engines, and she could certainly hear them now. But that there were so many coming was of little consequence; they didn’t know where to go. They certainly wouldn’t have enough time to get home, but there had to be a public shelter nearby. Best to just follow everyone else, she thought, as she heard someone shouting for people to find shelter, and quickly. Not that needed to be told that, of course, but it was probably for the few people here who somehow didn’t know what to do.
   “Looks like they really are coming this time.” Someone said as people filed into one of the shelters, not too far from the hospital. The sound of AA guns started to fill the air alongside the rumble of engines, but Yuna and Kahori seemed safe, entering the shelter alongside everyone else.
   “You’re not from around here, are you?” One of the occupants, a woman who appeared to be in her late 40s, asked.
   “No, ma’am. We’re from up in Hiroioki, visiting family in the hospital.” Yuna answered, holding Kahori close. It seemed so silly, being polite at a time like this, and yet she felt indebted to everyone else here for allowing them to stay, given the circumstances.
   “I’m so sorry to hear-”
   “HERE THEY COME!” Someone else, a soldier, possibly, shouted as he slammed the door to the shelter shut. “Cover your ears, open your mouth, and get down!” He said before taking cover as many in the shelter seemed to be fighting the urge to cry.
   “Yuna, I’m scared…” Kahori said.
   “We’re gonna be okay, don’t you worry.” Yuna said, reassuring her. And then the world began to violently shake, the loud bangs and cracks thundering all around them. Even the first attack wasn’t this bad, and they had been outside for it. No, it was like the ground was going to swallow them alive. Indeed, some of the soil fell around them, and yet the shelter held strong. They must’ve been going for the arsenal, there was no other reason to hit so close. Frankly, there was little else to target here anymore, since much of the fleet had moved further into the inland sea or to other ports in the east. It felt as though it would never end…
12:03 PM

   Just over two and a half hours would pass as the world seemed to fall apart around them. It was like an earthquake of a magnitude few alive might’ve remembered, at least, around here anyways. Yuna remembered growing up hearing about the earthquake that hit Shinkyo the same year she was born, and her great-grandfather had lived through the Tokai earthquakes in the 1850s, but even those didn’t last for hours at a time. Not that this did either, not really, since the planes came in waves, but it was far too constant to be an earthquake. Sometimes, a bomb would land really close, and those would rattle everyone present to their bones, but eventually, the tremors stopped and the sirens issued forth the “all clear”, so it would seem it was safe to exit the shelter.

   Yuna and Kahori were among the last to leave, having helped some of the elderly to exit before them. Even in times of turmoil such as these, Yuna had been taught to care for those who were most vulnerable in society; that was something her father had wanted her to remember, growing up. Even though he wasn’t here, she wanted to make him proud, to make her nation proud, even if the act itself was so small. But eventually, they would also have to leave the shelter, for they had a train to catch, assuming Azumi had survived and the tracks hadn’t been damaged.

   A thin haze of smoke hung in the air, joined by the cacophony of people coughing as a result. Even her niece hadn’t been spared from it, yet at first, she paid no mind. Just up ahead, across from the entrance to the shelter, a house sat destroyed, shattered by one of the bombs. They had just narrowly avoided death that day; even a few feet closer and the shelter would’ve almost certainly collapsed in on itself. And standing in front of it, just at the entrance to the house, was one of the women who had joined them in that hole in the ground. She seemed stunned, yet her eyes were almost empty, as though she had just lost everything, and indeed she had. That was once her home, most likely, but there was something she had which so many people needed: Water.
   “Uh, excuse me?” Yuna asked the woman, who at first appeared to not notice them. “Can we have some water?” She continued, looking at the tub of water just off the property, presumably there in case of a fire. The Umekis had something similar, though of course, theirs wasn’t quite as nice looking.
   “Go ahead.” The woman said, and almost immediately people would crowd around it, seeking relief from the smoke which left their lungs irritated and which stung their eyes. She’d lost so much, the poor thing, and yet even now she was so generous. Or was it simply a lack of care, now that she had nothing to her name? Either way, that was perhaps the best water any of them had in their life, but eventually, everyone, even Yuna and Kahori, would leave, but not before thanking her.

   As they walked along the road, every so often they’d be able to catch a glimpse of the sea, of the carnage wrought upon the harbor. It wasn’t good, that was for sure. Sirens could be heard nearby, probably from the fire department as so many sped to combat the flames which raged in the harbor. Off in the distance, beyond the mountains, smoke seemed to rise, perhaps from aircraft which had thankfully been brought down, but that wasn’t worth speculating. Right now, they needed to focus on getting back to the station. There would be questions, of course; some serious, like why the bombings were even happening, others less-so. Kahori worried if the train had left them, and was told that they wouldn’t leave the station at a time like this. But even after all that happened, she seemed dead-set upon one thing in particular: seeing the ships. It would be difficult, of course, given the smoke, but that was something that was something she’d help with. It might’ve been her last time seeing her, for all she knew, so why not make it count?
   “Auntie Yuna?” Kahori spoke up as they walked side-by-side, Yuna on the left, Kahori on the right. “Do you think you could draw Hisao for me next?” She asked her as they passed by someone’s garden off to the right, torn apart by shrapnel by the looks. Such innocence, Yuna thought as they walked. And then, she saw it. A crater, small in diameter, sat within, and for some reason, she recalled a lecture she’d attended over a year ago. ”Small craters can be created by unexploded bombs. According to our intelligence reports, as well as experience in the field, the enemy uses these bombs to hamper recovery after an attack.” the instructor’s voice echoed in her head. It was like alarm bells were going off in her head, practically screaming at her to run, and now.
   “Kahori, look out!” She screamed, grabbing her hand and trying to run, but it was too late. A flash of light blinded her, and then, there was nothing. On that day, tasked with protecting both home and family, she failed. Everything was gone.

15
Survivors
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
June 24th, 1945
8:04 PM


   Already, over a month had passed since Iwao had left for his training; he’d written once a week, and likewise he’d received mail in return every Sunday, but that was the fullest extent of their contact. And yet, it was still more than they’d heard from Daisaku, who had been missing for nearly two months now. Of course, they’d known he was still alive; one of his coworkers said as much, but he didn’t know where they’d taken him. That was, at the very least, until a few hours ago, when on the way home from picking up the week’s rations, Azumi had received a letter. It was from her father, which of course led to her running a little late getting home after dropping off everything they needed for dinner. By the time she returned, everything was ready, even the bowl of rice typically set out in case he were to come back home. Just some old tradition, and by now, they’d gotten so used to it that it seemed improper to not do it.

   Home seemed so much bigger now, so much emptier. Iwao and Daisaku would often spend time with Kahori, back when they were still here, yet gone was the laughter, the stories, the noise. It felt wrong, in a way, yet there was hope. That was something they couldn’t give up. Hope that Daisaku would come home alive. Hope that Iwao would make it out of training in one piece. Hope that Fusan would win the war, and that peace would reign across East Ardia evermore. To give up hope now would be to accept defeat, to die. Yet even then, there was an ever-present sense of fear which seemed to circle every home and business, and which sought to pierce the hearts of every man. After all, any day now, Kyūre might once again be attacked, and they’d have to crawl back into that hole in the ground which they called a shelter. Suffice to say, everyone was quiet around the dinner-table that night. That was, at least, until Azumi spoke up, finally breaking the silence.
   “Y’know, I don’t think I ever said why dad’s in the hospital.” She mentioned, though nobody responded at first. “Turns out, he took some shrapnel in his gut, had a bad concussion too. Only reason we haven’t heard anything is because he was out cold for a while. He should be able to come home soon, though.”
   “I suppose that makes sense.” Natsumi said with a nod as she put her chopsticks away. “And to think, we were so sure he would be at the hospital in Hikami.”
   “No wonder we couldn’t find him.” Yuna chimed in.
   “Well, when I visited”—Azumi pulled out a pocket-watch, its glass cracked and its hands stuck at around the time the attack began—”he asked me to get his watch repaired. I guess that means I’m going to be visiting Izumozaki.”
   “Izumozaki?” Asked Natsumi, rhetorically. It made sense, seeing as it, like the clock that hung upon the wall in the dining room, was made by Azumi’s father-in-law as a gift; who better to repair a watch than the man who made it?
   “Mhm. And y’know, if I have to make the visit, I… may as well take Kahori to see her brother.” She answered, solemnly. It was clear that something about that ate her up inside, and upon her face she wore an expression which Yuna had seen far too many times in the past: sorrow. Almost certainly for her late husband, and for the son who had been torn away from her due to the war and due to her own estrangement from the family. She would quickly gather her composure, saying in a rather definitive manner “We leave tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow?” both Yuna and Kahori asked, for rather different reasons of course. Yuna was personally glad to see her go, not out of any malice but rather because she genuinely wanted to see Kahori and her brother reunited, even if for only a few days. Kahori, on the other hand, was surprised, as she had school that day, a concern which she would promptly voice.
   “What about school?” She asked.
   “Never you mind that, all they’ll do is have you doing exercise and playing in the dirt anyways.” Azumi reassured the child, holding her hand for a moment before getting up from the table. She had a fair bit of packing to do, for it would be a rather long trip.
Nikokyo, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
June 25th, 1945
7:16 AM


   It had been a few months since Yuna had last visited the station, even if she wasn’t personally going anywhere. Nope, she was here solely to see her sister-in-law and her niece off; that and to help carry their luggage onto the train. But today, the line was rather long, and it showed. Even though they got to the station early, just prior to sunrise almost two hours prior, the line stretched as far as the next intersection. A great many of those here were soldiers, those assigned to defend the homeland, but also children. The first relocations had started as early as two or so years ago, but only in a limited scope out to the west. Now, however, with all the attacks, this policy had seemingly been expanded across the entirety of the mainland, or at least, so it would seem.
   “Is Izumozaki far?” Kahori asked Yuna as they continued to wait in line; Azumi was, of course, growing rather annoyed with how slow the line was moving, given that the trip was itself going to take a while.
   “Yeah, it is.” Yuna answered. “Farther than even Hatsukaichi.”
   “Is it near Tenkyo?”
   “No, not that far. Just up the coast, to the north.”
   “Yuna,” Azumi interrupted the two. “I think it’s rather clear we’re going to be waiting a while longer, so how about you take Kahori and visit dad?”
   “Alright, come with me, Kahori.” Yuna answered, taking her niece’s hand as they started to leave. Azumi didn’t care to watch them leave, even as the child asked if they’d get to see the ships out in the harbor. She was going to miss this, even if she didn’t say it aloud.
7:31 AM

   With its plastered walls and winding corridors, the naval hospital, located near the base of Mount Shiraki and not far from Iwao’s old place of work, was rather unassuming. Were it not for the men in uniform who patrolled the grounds, one might’ve struggled to even know it was run by the navy, and frankly, its age was starting to show. After all, it had been built nearly seventy-five years ago, back when the Kyūre naval district itself had been established shortly following the end of the Keiō restoration, and though it had been well-maintained, it still seemed dated. Why replace what isn’t obsolete seemed to be the mantra of the navy, at least with its facilities on the ground.

   Upon entry into the hospital, the faint sound of songs not heard since before the war—since before the Kunan restoration—could be heard. This music, influenced by the styles once popular in Ardia, had been officially banned by the Yokusankai, of which the YFD faction still led even if the faces at the top had changed since that fateful day in ‘37. Gone was Sonyu, though he maintained an important role within the party as its leader, and in was one Einosuke Yagami and his ally, Kazumasa Toshinari. But the affairs of Shinkyo were yet far away, even as that city was roasted in the open flames of war. And frankly, the bans on “Ardian Music” were rather silly, so why should Yuna, or anyone for that matter, have made a fuss over it? Nobody seemed to care, especially Daisaku.
   “Father.” Yuna said with a bow as she and Kahori entered one of the wards. Of course, Kahori soon found herself asking questions of some of the sailors who were there, healing from wounds sustained in fighting out to sea or at one of the many facilities that had been hit in recent months, but she might’ve justified it by claiming it was so she would have something to tell her brother tomorrow.
   “Ah, Yuna, Kahori. I’m sorry I worried you so much, I… was in a coma. Is it really June already?” Daisaku asked, pushing up his glasses before glancing around the room for a moment.
   “Well, what’s important is that you’re alive.” Yuna answered as Kahori walked—ran, really—back to them.
   “And now we’re gonna take a train to go see my brother!” Kahori piped up as she tried to give her grandfather a hug.
   “Are you?” He asked, patting her on the head as he added “Well, the sooner, the better.” before she once again ran off to ask about ships, or something else that was of little consequence to either Yuna or Daisaku. “I’ve learned a lot of news since I came to…” He said, quietly as he laid back in his bed, not wishing for his granddaughter to overhear them. “Yuna, the Fusō was sunk.”
   “The Fusō?” Yuna asked, not believing him for a moment. How grim it was that the vessel which shared its name with the nation was lost in this dark hour.
   “Yes. She moved in front of the fleet off Toshima, diverting the enemy onto herself. Those boys saved a lot of lives, but our slice of the Azukishiman sea is now controlled by the enemy.”
   “You don’t mean…”
   “I do. That’s why I told Azumi to take Kahori to her father’s family in Izumozaki. It’ll be much safer there.” Daisaku said. “Believe me, I hate it as much as anyone else, but she deserves to grow up in peace, not having to worry about if she’ll even see tomorrow.”
   “I… I understand. Truthfully, I’ve been worried about that too, ever since my brother… Well, you know.”
   “You’re fine. Now, you’d best get going. Don’t want to miss your train now, do you?”
   “Take care, father.” Yuna replied before leaving the hospital with Kahori.
9:09 AM

   It was no wonder that Azumi seemed so sad since last night, Yuna thought as they left the hospital with Kahori. She was having to say goodbye to her daughter, to the last real connection to her old life, to her husband, at least until after the war. How horrible it was, even if necessary for her safety. As she looked around the area, first back towards the hospital, where she caught a glimpse of Daisaku waving at them, and then across the street, where the shouts of trainees performing their exercises could be heard, about something her father once told her. ”Survival requires you to make difficult choices, both for yourself and for those around you.” He had said, even if he was talking about his time in the military. In a way, the situation was quite similar, as Kyūre was practically on the frontlines now, and if she wanted Kahori to live, then difficult choices had to be made.
   “Auntie Yuna?” Kahori asked as they walked along the wall of the compound, back towards the station. “Can we go look over there?” She pointed towards the harbor through a gap in the wall. “I wanna see what ships are here so I can tell my brother about them.”
   “I can’t see anything.” Yuna answered, indulging her for a moment.
   “Let’s keep going, please?” Kahori begged in a simultaneously endearing and annoying fashion. Off in the distance, a faint humming noise, likely the sound of aircraft, could be heard.
   “I dunno, Kahori… We really should be-” Yuna answered, being cut off by the wailing of sirens. The city was under attack again, and this time, they were caught out in the open.

16
   "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."

17
The Farewell
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
May 15th, 1945
5:26 AM


   It had been a day which Yuna had dreaded, yet one which, whether due to the tides of war or merely the thread of fate, had come nonetheless. Even as the rain poured from the overcast skies, even as the waves crashed against the rocky shore, nothing could stop what was to happen. For today, Iwao departed for training, not likely to be seen for months to come. It wasn't as though he was to go very far; the camp he'd been assigned to was still within Kyūre, after all. But due to the navy's policy, he would not be permitted to leave, not unless something catastrophic were to happen, but Yuna didn't particularly care to think about that. The fact of the matter was that, though they would physically only be a few kilometers apart, in many ways, that distance would soon feel as distant as far off Vaguzia. It truly felt like it did in November, back when she said goodbye to her brother for the last time; even as she watched him, still in bed after having only awoken a few minutes prior, she felt that same mix of fear, sorrow, and hope that had nearly shattered her back then. What if he didn't return? What if he was sent off to fight? What if he was injured, or worse? She shook her head as she took out her notebook, the very same that she'd bought when she visited home in March of '44, and made a sketch of him.
   "Doodling again, Yuna?" Iwao joked, opening his eyes and glancing over to her, though he didn't move. "If you're gonna draw my face, how're you gonna forget it?"
   "I've told you a-" Yuna answered; he knew they were sketches. After all, it'd been the very first thing she'd said to him, all those years ago. "Oh, never mind that. What's with everyone thinking I'm that forgetful?"
   "I dunno, I was just pullin' your leg." Iwao chuckled as he picked himself up off the bed. "Mind if I?" He asked, reaching for the notebook with the hope of catching a glimpse.
   "No peeking!" She replied, quickly putting the notebook away; it was hardly finished, after all, and she never was one for sharing her work before it was ready. "Besides, you'll have plenty of time to see it when you come home."
   "Oh, fine..." Iwao said, defeated, as they started getting ready for the day, first by putting the futons away. Once that was finished, they would share breakfast with the rest of the family—the last until he would come home—before finishing a few chores around the house.

   By seven, it had come time for Iwao to depart, at least, if he wanted to be at the camp without being considered AWOL. How about that for a way to start a career in the navy, even in a role such as that? No, that wouldn't do one bit. But before he'd leave, he would have a few moments to say his farewells, first to the house he was raised in, then to his mother, his sister, his niece, and finally, to Yuna.
   "I know you said you'd protect our family, but I just want to make sure, are you going to be alright?" He asked her. With how the war had gone, even in spite of the propaganda which claimed that the Ardians would surely be defeated, he couldn't help but worry.
   "Yes." Yuna said, earnestly. "We'll all still be here when you come home, I promise."
   "In that case, I suppose this is farewell?" Iwao said before making his way towards the road, down the hill which had proven so treacherous for many a climber in years passed. Both Azumi and Kahori would join him, the former wishing to see him off, while the latter would only do so because school was the same way. Yet all Yuna could do, even as she felt a well of emotions building up within her, was stay behind. They would see one another, that much she knew, but so too did she realize that it would not be easy. How could it?

18
   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."

19
   In the year since he'd become Prime Minister, Sadazane Konishi had grown ever-more used to meetings such as these. Usually, they didn't tend to make the news quite like meetings with the Emperor of course, but that was more often a result of all the pomp and ceremony that came with it rather than any substance. No, this was entirely a matter of business, which tended to be the case as he rarely seemed to have the time for anything else these days. Today's order of business? A meeting with the General Secretary of Jiayuan, Tai Wenjian, ostensibly the first time a leader of Jiayuan had visited the country in... Well, decades at least if not the first time, ever. He couldn't remember, not that it mattered given the circumstances.

   Eventually, the Jiayuanese leader and his entourage would arrive, and following the standard affair of ceremony—the playing of the anthems of both nations, the introductions and other things—they would be ushered into a meeting-room within the Prime Minister's residence, located within the shadow of the Imperial Diet. Once everyone had settled in, Sadazane would speak up.
   "So, Mr. General Secretary, where would you like to begin?" He asked, glancing briefly to one of his advisors before returning his gaze to his foreign counterpart. "Now, I could go either way, but seeing as you requested this meeting, I figured you might have some idea of where to start, even if it may perhaps be most logical to discuss matters of trade first, no?"

20
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."

21
Sacrifice
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
April 14th, 1945
6:16 PM


   So much had changed since the war's start, Yuna thought as she walked home from a meeting of the local neighborhood association, though part of her wondered just how much of what had changed was due to her just getting older. She still remembered the day the war had begun as though it were yesterday; "The entire nation with a united will shall mobilize their total strength" was what the then-Prime Minister, Sonyu, had said. Perhaps she was young back then, guided by her ideals, but she never would've thought that it would mean this. Cities laid to waste, children being sent off to the countryside, fathers, sons, and brothers going off to war, never to be seen again. She'd heard her father's stories, heard of the grave losses sustained in the last war, and yet only now did it truly hit home. Everyone would have to make sacrifices, to accept privation and deprivation for the sake of attaining victory, not merely for Fusan, but for East Ardia as a whole.

   And what greater sacrifice could there be than to lay down one's life so that the rising generations may know peace and freedom? That's what the head of the Hiroioki tonarigumi had said when, last November, training had begun to establish a sort of "people's militia" to defend their mother country, should the war come to their shores as it now seemed. When that day came, as it now seemed so likely to come, would she be ready? Would she lay down her life for the lives of those who had not yet been born? Those thoughts returned every time she passed out fliers, every time she trained with her bamboo spear, every time she saw Kahori's tender face. Yes, she told herself, even if she privately grappled with the thought. When they arrived, out on the shoreline, would she even have a choice but to fight? It was so much simpler to say she would, even if she yet struggled with the thought. The events of the 16th of March had, in any case, made it clear that this decision would have to be made sooner rather than later.
   "I heard they're going to start issuing rifles soon, out in Toshima anyways." Iwao said, his voice muffled through the shoji doors and the walls of the house. "It's only a matter of time until the Ardians hit it, a month at most."
   "I've heard similar rumors-" Daisaku replied "-and it probably won't be too long before the same happens here."
   "The gods sent down the divine wind to save us from the Ardians once, I'm sure they'll do the same again." Natsumi chimed in before Yuna entered the building, announcing her presence, as often was the tradition, as she did so. "Anyways, now that we're all here, I suppose we can finally eat."

   A few minutes would pass as the family, old and young, sat around the table and ate their dinner. Soon enough, the conversation turned to recent events, both within their own lives and in the nation at large. Daisaku went on about an engine he and his team at Hikami were working on yet again; Azumi and Kahori had little luck in finding school supplies due to recent shortages; Natsumi had spent time with the parents of one of the soldiers lost on the Peninsula, and Yuna... Well, she didn't really speak much. To speak about the meeting would be to invite those thoughts again, after all. But most importantly of all the news in Kyūre, the mighty Fusō had steamed into port, ready to defend the Empire in its hour of need. But though none mentioned it, its presence was not entirely welcome, for a ship such as that would only make their city a target once more.

22
International News Networks / Re: YHK (News from Daitō)
« on: February 12, 2024, 03:10:09 AM »

Fusan Celebrates National Foundation Day

Fusako Arishima
02/11/2024

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.

23
International News Networks / Re: The Ranong Post (News from Kalasin)
« on: February 11, 2024, 10:56:18 PM »
Kalasin, Now Free, Goes to the Polls
Nantin Willapana
02/11/2024

Kalasin held its recently-scheduled elections for the office of Minister-President and for the regional assembly. While numerous parties were able to participate under guiding hand of the Allied Provisional Authority, only three parties—the Liberal Democratic, Conservative, and Renewal parties—were successful in gaining seats within the assembly. But before we can discuss the results of the election, it is perhaps best if we provide a refresher for who these parties are as well as who they are aligned with in the Union State at large. First off, the Liberal Democratic Party is, as the name suggests, is a centrist party led by Minister President-elect Tai Montri which is aligned to the larger Democratic Party based in Paechon. The party formed in 2019 following the signing of the Saelim-Mangjul accords and quickly aligned itself with said party in Paechon, seeing it as a valuable source of funding at the time. Over the years since, they have grown closer to one another, with much of the party's leadership going into exile once Kalasin attempted to terminate its membership within the Union. The party is seen as generally in favor of permitting coalition forces to remain in the region, much like the Conservative Party.

On the note of the Conservative party, they too are aligned with a larger supranational part, in their case the NSP—the National Salvation Party. This party, forming a "big tent" of various conservative positions, had previously been supplanted by the now-banned People's Party which led the region into declaring its independence last year. The party is led by Anutin Suebsang and will form the primary opposition to the new ruling party in the regional assembly. Finally, the Renewal party, an alliance of left-wing politicians, was also successful in gaining seats in the assembly, and it is led by Paetongtarn Silpa-archa. The conservative party, like the LDP, is in support of the continued presence of coalition forces through 2027; only the Renewal party has advocated for an earlier withdrawal. The elections were conducted with independent monitoring from the nations which contribute to the APA, this coming in spite of demands by the Kusanese government that "independent" monitoring, which is of course to say that they be granted a seat at the table—that they be permitted to choose the fate of our beloved nation—be provided.

As already noted, Tai Montri, a Ranong native, was elected as the new Minister-President of Kalasin, gaining a stunning 46% of the vote while Suebsang gained 29% and Silpa-archa gained 21%. Roughly 4% of the votes were for independent candidates as well as candidates put forwards by more minor parties. Meanwhile, in the unicameral Regional Assembly, the LDP gained 58 seats while the Conservatives picked up 37 and the Renewal Party gained 25. For the sake of ensuring future elections do not serve as a drain on the economy, 75 of the newly elected representatives will only serve for two years, however will be permitted for an additional third term as compensation rather than the standard two terms currently in place; if they are not reelected, this extra term will not apply to the new representative. In his victory speech, Montri thanked everyone for their support, both in fighting for a free Kalasin under the auspices of the Union State, but also asked that the nation continue to remember the many lives who had been lost in the "Soknatkrrm", a name for the recent genocide which ravaged the nation under the leadership of Kasidej Rangsitpol and executed by the PAFK. He also warned that though the nation was liberated, the PAFK continued to pose a threat to not only Kalasin, but to the world at large, and vowed that he would pursue their erradication during his time in office.

24
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.

25
The Canvas of Smoke and Flame
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
March 16th, 1945
7:18 AM


   The long, cold winter had passed, and spring had well and truly sprung. Though snow still glistened upon the summit of Mt. Takimine and Mt. Suigenchi, down below, the farming season had once more come, and as Iwao made his way off to work, so too did Yuna, aided by her "little helper." She was a young girl, just turned seven, and was someone who Yuna knew quite well. It'd be odd if she didn't, seeing as her assistant for the day was Kahori, her niece, though she would soon be too busy with school to help out on the family plot. Just one more month until then. Thinking about that brought back different memories, too. Had it really been over a year since she'd been married? So much had changed since then, yet now, some part of her truly felt at home not on the busy streets of Hatsukaichi, but in the semi-rural lifestyle that came with life in Hiroioki. What was life if not the changes one experienced? That's what Hisako said before she left the city for some place further inland, away from the coast. She was afraid, Yuna thought, but then again, so was everyone.

   Just over a week ago, the Ardians hit Shinkyo in what the reports were calling a "grave crime against the soul of the nation" and a "travesty inflicted upon the innocent." It was different to the infrequent air raids from the last year, none of which struck population centers, certainly none which intentionally targeted the innocent. But now, the face of war had changed, and what was once merely a war to liberate East Ardia, a war which had certainly not progressed perfectly owing to their wily foe, had now become a war for their very survival as a people, and maybe in time, they would all be called on to serve. But that was still so very far away from the here and now, Yuna thought as she and Kahori tended to the fields as life carried on as normal below. The two sang songs as they worked; the wind blew through the trees, the ships moved about in the harbor. She could even hear the faint buzz of aircraft engines off in the distance, no doubt a patrol as always. In other words, it was... pleasant.

   Eventually, they would finish for the day, but they would not yet return home, instead taking the opportunity to spend time together as aunt and niece. They'd soon gotten to talking about what to expect from school, for Kahori, having never gone through formal education to that point, was certainly nervous about it. "Come now, with how obedient you are, the teachers won't scold you." Yuna said in a cheery fashion, patting her young niece on the back. "And you're so kind that you won't struggle to make friends."
   "Really? It's not scary at school?" Kahori asked as they sat on the edge of the terrace.
   "Not in the slightest. Like I said, you'll even make friends." Yuna answered before saying "I mean, when I came here, I was alone. Yet now, I've made friends with just about everyone." as she pointed to herself, her voice warm and inviting.
   "Even mama?" Kahori asked, which of course pulled Yuna back from the brink of self-delusion and into the world of reality.
   "I mean, I'm try-" Yuna said before being cut off by a noise off in the distance. Trumpets rang out across the city, and Kahori soon stood up to look for where they were coming from. Soon, Yuna too was looking in the same direction as the trumpets rang out from mountaintop to mountaintop. Then, they stopped wholesale, and a great rumbling replaced them. And then, the guns opened up from upon the mountains, smoke filling the air. Almost instinctively, she moved in front of her niece as aircraft streamed overhead, out from Mount Takimine and bearing the roundel of the Ardian Empire. They were under attack. "Cover your head!" She said as she pulled her hood over herself while the young girl started to cry. Soon, rockets streamed out from the Ardian planes and down towards the harbor, all while incendiary rounds from the ships in port exploded in mid air, sending streamers of smoke and flame in front of the attackers, though to no avail. It was difficult to move, the fear too great as she looked out on this strangely beautiful sight. But then, she found herself on the ground and pushed into the retaining wall on the terrace.

   "What the hell were you thinking, keeping yourself out in the open like that!?" Daisaku said forcefully as they took cover.
   "Welcome home?" Yuna asked, and soon enough, the air raid sirens began to blare as they sheltered against the wall.
   "So now they sound the alarm, now that we're already being bombed???" He asked, exasperated by the slow response. When Yuna tried to look around, he said "Keep your head down, shrapnel's bound to be flying around." and as if right on cue, a shell went off overhead and sent small bits of metal flying into the fields, kicking up some debris which struck his helmet and caused him to grunt in pain. It wasn't bad or anything, but still enough to feel. Better that than getting hit by the actual shrapnel, he thought.

   Soon enough, a new sound joined the fray, the roar of planes which flew not with propellers, but with jets. Fusan's ace in the hole, so to speak, and when Daisaku heard it, a faint smile formed upon his face. It was those planes that he had helped to build down at Hikami, and now that they were finally in use, though he hated the circumstances, he couldn't help but feel some small sense of pride. "I know that noise..." He said. "Those engines. We worked day and night in the factory to improve them, and now, I get to see them do their job in person..." He remarked, but by the time they arrived, the enemy had begun to pull back. The sirens went silent, smoke filled the air, and Daisaku's efforts would not pay off today. "I think that's enough excitement for one day... Let's get you two home, hm?" He said as they picked themselves off the ground, his smile once again disappearing as, like everyone else, the gears in his mind began to turn. The war had officially come to Kyūre.

26
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."

27
Diplomacy and Events / Re: The Emperor and the Regent (Tanith & Daito)
« on: February 07, 2024, 04:27:55 PM »
OOC: Just popping in before this continues, Ach is correct. Kusan =/= Fusan, but Fusan = Daito. Hope that clears things up!

28
Diplomacy and Events / The Emperor and the Regent (Tanith & Daito)
« on: February 04, 2024, 09:29:10 AM »

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.
Signed,
Hisato Watase,
Grand Steward of the Imperial Household Ministry

29
Map / Re: Claiming Your Spot on the Map
« on: February 04, 2024, 09:26:58 AM »
Change Daito's name to Fusan when possible, thanks.

30
Diplomacy and Events / Re: The Setting Sun (Open RP)
« on: February 04, 2024, 12:13:28 AM »
   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.

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