Daehanjeiguk
01-01-2009, 05:44
ooc: After the past few tumultuous weeks, I've gotten enough stamina in me to get back to doing NS and RPing. This is my attempt to return to RPing in earnest. If you need an introduction to my country, please TG me. The point of this story thread is to incorporate the up-until-now independent island Empire of Ilbon (i.e. Japan in my alternate reality). As this is an attempt to help me reorganize the Empire into a more understandable entity rather than just a bunch of numbers and such, any intentional interference with the major plot will be ignored; furthermore, any attempt to interrupt the major plot without my consultation will be ignored. If you wish to contribute to this, you must TG me before making such a post. OOC remarks will be tolerated to an extent, as long as they are constructive. If any person posts without my consultation and likewise makes no attempt for redress, I will consider calling the mods to resolve any differences. PLEASE DO NOT DO DISSERVICE TO EITHER YOU OR ME BY IGNORING THIS DISCLAIMER. That said, I am open to any open contributions offered by anyone who is well qualified to write well; if no one is willing to contribute, that will suit me just as fine.
Just for a little plot summary, the Empire of Ilbon (Japan) has had few political contacts with the outside world since the 1592 Wars with the Han Empire, beyond average commerce and trade with the Han Empire. The existing establishment is the Tokugawa Shogunate, with the Imperial establishment tacitly supporting the Shogun; there was no Meiji Restoration; Ilbon is basically what Japan would have been in the modern age without the abolition of the samurai caste. The Diet is basically a congress of daimyo lords. The technology is on par with modern, mostly located in Edo (Tokyo) despite the unrealistic relationships between the political and economic development of the country. The army is mostly feudal, with each daimyo having his own army of samurai, who are the only persons allowed to bear swords (soldiers can be conscripted from each domain owned by the daimyo, much like militia). In that regard, the Imperial House in Kyoto does not have a professional Imperial Army. Likewise, the daimyo rival the power owned by the Shogun, who traditionally owns the most powerful army in Ilbon.
However, growing tension among the lower daimyo has fed discontent with the existing power structure, each daimyo seeking a more republican-style of government. Lacking the military power, they have sought to make a larger alliance under a more formal political party – Nihon Gendai To (Modern Nihon Party) - to pressure the Shogun in the Diet to concede more political power. And this is where I will begin the story.
TAGS
OOC
General Plot
IC Communication
SIC Communication
If you are confused by any remarks, please consult me to determine the secrecy of the contents - in general, it is best to assume that all non-IC remarks are secret and therefore not known to any party beyond those present. Any plots that ignore this fundamental statement will be likewise ignored.
SATSUMA
Shimazu Takehiko woke up early that morning. The plane would leave the airport at 5:59am, in time to arrive at Edo by 10:00am for the Convention of the Imperial Diet. Aiko was ready for him, offering his morning routine of hot rice porridge and tea. It really was all of the time that he had that morning. He looked at the edge of the horizon, noting the anxious rise of the sun just beyond. Aiko walked calmly as she retired to the dressing quarters, preparing Takehiko's clothes for the trip. A number of retainers arrived soon after, dressing in silken garments, bearing the colors of the Satsuma Han (the domain of the Shimazu Clan). Takehiko slowly drank the hot tea as he read the news for that day. There were more riots in Kyoto, as people corralled outside the Imperial Residence protesting the new taxes authorized by the Bakufu. The Diet was to convene that day for the very reason - whether Tokugawa Shota had exceeded his mandate as Shogun. Why attack the Imperial Residence, if Shota lived in Edo? It was a relic of the Showa-go 21 (21st year of the Showa reign), when the samurai of Mori Yamato attempted to coup against the Tokogawa bakufu, stealing the Imperial Throne and consequently the seal from which the Tokugawa authority was derived. The incident caught few supporters and in fact only led to strengthen the Tokugawa’s hold over the Imperial Family. The Mori were stripped of their possessions, Yamato condemned to death by public beheading with a giant saw, and their possessions redistributed among the increasingly large Tokugawa family (with its numerous branches). Tokugawa Takayoshi had his son wed to the Emperor’s daughter, assumed all responsibility for the defense of the Imperial Family against future attacks against the most serene and divine authority.
Now, attacking the center of power in the bakufu was to challenge its political legitimacy, since they held all military power. The people… such a foreign thought that simple farmers could become so powerful. But farmers had their needs, and when the bakufu intruded upon these needs, the daimyo found that the people could challenge the bakufu; hence, the Modern Nihon Party (MNP). Shimazu was the traditional house where political dissent lay, and although in their early years they were more pleasing to the Tokugawa alliance, they managed to build such a strong popular front that any illegitimate attack upon members of the Gendai was easily rebuffed by the threat of public reprisal. It was proven once early in the Taisho, under the same Tokugawa Takayoshi – the tacit assassination of Saito Hiroyama from Choshu was marked with strikes from Hokkaido to Ryukyu. The strikes nearly brought upon intervention by the Gojong Emperor’s naval fleet, as a number of Han citizens were killed in the upheaval. Takehiko’s predecessors managed to cement a compromise deal that seemed to placate the people – end the taxes for leaving Edo. In return, the Gendai would encourage the people to turn their anger to grief for the loss of a “great man”, even as Takayoshi was irate over the whole humiliation. The diplomatic incident with the Han was settled over public punishment of the murderers implicated in the deaths of those citizens; meanwhile, the Gendai became the positive political foundation in the Diet. Takayoshi turned to more subtle political means, forming the Popular Nihon Party (PNP – or just Popular Party). The first years of the Showa reign were marked by increasing political fights between the Gendai and the Minshu, such that people proudly wearing the banners for either party could spark a riot. Naturally, the Minshu supporters were more likely to be spared from harsh sentences; nonetheless, the Gendai remained extremely popular with the commoners and the merchants, while the Minshu were popular among the daimyo. Incidentally, there were few members of the Tokugawa establishment who joined the Minshu, and consequently, power was more cemented among independent daimyo supporters of the bakufu.
What was the Diet anyway? Formed at the close of the Henno reign, the Diet was the supposed to be a “reason” for the daimyo to convene in Edo. For the past two centuries, the daimyo went to Edo as part of their duties, but aside from pillaging their wealth on gambling, women, and other risky adventures, they had nothing to do. As part of a petition to the liberal minded Tokugawa Takeda, the Diet would become the primary reason for the daimyo to convene in Edo, to vote upon resolutions and make suggestions to the bakufu, of whom many were present in the Diet (as a result of their merit to the Tokugawa family). In essence, it was the first breach into the traditional political supremacy owned by the Tokugawa family, and in spite of the numerous loyal members of the Diet (mostly due marriage and familial arrangements), daimyo resistant to the bakufu gained power and popularity. The first years of the Gendai were still dangerous, and many Shimazu daimyo were threatened by the Shogun – basically to “fall in line” with the bakufu – but owing to efforts to popularize their party, the legitimacy of the party in the eyes of their people grew. Among the “free” class – people who did nothing in particular for a living – the Gendai represented an opportunity to liberalize Nihon into a great power, like the Han Empire. In the aftermath of the Hiroyama assassination, Takayoshi’s efforts to make the Diet his pawn started brilliantly. Mirroring the success of the Gendai Party, the Minshu popularized their efforts as for the Empire (i.e. larger than the “people”). National compared to popular interests – it was a popular alternative, and many people bought it, particularly in urban centers and where those daimyo resided. It was the increasing popularity of the Minshu that led in part to the Showa-go 21 coup attempt. Nationalist opinion turned the Gendai into a scapegoat, from which the Shimazu managed to isolate themselves from the Mori, and consequently the coup attempt. The Gendai survived.
But why were those taxes so important to the Gendai? Well, in those days, the daimyo were required to pay a tax to leave Edo and return to their homes. It was a financial method to keep the daimyo close to the Tokugawa family, especially for those daimyo located so far away from Edo. It meant that daimyo had to pay a hefty price to leave Edo, reducing their capacity to plot against the bakufu. That tax was later translated into a general tax for all persons – foreign or otherwise – in an unrelated effort to improve the Shogun’s treasury. As transportation became more and more open to people, that tax was so burdensome to commercial development, which unfortunately was only permitted in Edo. A huge black market developed outside Edo, but the risks of running a market outside Edo was extremely dangerous. Even so much as congregating daimyos outside of Edo was perceived as “trade negotiation” and thus punishable by the same law. In the same stroke, abolishing the taxes would make the Gendai the champion of the people, as well as open the way for the daimyo to plot with greater liberty; each tax repealed was a punishing blow to the bakufu, as they scrambled for political control and sources of revenue.
Things had changed over the years, but nonetheless, Nihon was certainly not to its full potential. Edo was a bustling metropolis that held all of the power; the daimyos went home to scanty castles and pastures, farms, factories, or whatever happened to be the prerogative of the daimyo’s interests at a time. For Takehiko, his business was all fish and rice. Some boats too, but not as much as he would like, owing to restrictions on the number of boats any daimyo could own. He could buy extra permits to own more boats, but seeing as he couldn’t afford to keep as many boats and control political power in the Diet as the head of the Gendai, he resorted to using his limited resources to their full potential. Takehiko was a relatively creative and intelligent man. Learning the tricks of this ancestors, he was a noted political adversary to the bakufu, and thanks to the efforts of those same ancestors, he wielded enough political power to openly contest the bakufu at times. Of course, his life was a maze of political intrigue, as random “reporters” would frequently attempt to get him to make outrageous claims. His lips were tight, and what he said was clear and unambiguous when needed. The Tokugawa bakufu had little dirt to play upon him; moreover, he was a loyal and law-abiding daimyo, who did as the bakufu commanded him within the limits of the law. Of course, they could order him to disband the Gendai party, but he could just as easily “slip out” the information, leading to massive popular protests. Essentially, the political war was turning more and more into a war of etiquette, and Takehiko was the clear master. Shogun Shota himself was a potent advisory himself, having learned much of his skill through experience.
But to suggest that martial intrigue had subsided would be wrong. Assassins abounded in every crevice, coming from any crevice. Tokugawa didn’t need to hire any hands or even to persuade any hands to try their luck at the ploys, to which Shimazu had similar circumstances. To each, they wielded their own force of retainers, guardians who followed their masters with the utmost diligence, respect, and loyalty. Between the Gendai and the Minshu, there were several other groups. Imperialists – people who felt that neither popular nor bakufu, but rather imperial power should be paramount – crowded the streets, demanding a return to the grace and summit of the “sons of gods”. Indeed, how could the Heavens answer to men? And why then should the Emperor be a slave to the present bakufu? They were understandably a small, cult-like group, who practiced only the most traditional of customs; in general, they were outsiders, but they were formidable allies to the Minshu. On the other hand, the Zainichi – at first, a cultural phenomenon, then a cultural organization – became valiant outlaws, allies almost to the Gendai. The Zainichi were basically a group of foreigners (many of whom were Han expatriates) who basically opposed the nationalist tendencies of the Minshu, not necessarily for or against the bakufu itself. But as they were generally criminal masterminds (indeed, one of the largest organizers of the black market outside Edo), they also had their reasons to confront the Minshu. They were very efficient criminals, and whenever an occasion arose concerning the Zainichi, the Gendai did what they could within the law to reduce the penances against them, to frustration of the Tokugawa bakufu and the Minshu.
Takehiko finished his tea and left aside his porridge aside. He wasn’t feeling too hungry at the moment. Aiko came back out at the proper time and took away the cup and bowl, collecting it all neatly. Once she had put the dishes aside, she went straight to the dressing room, waiting for Takehiko. He was waiting for something himself. It was awfully dark, but in the darkness was a coming message, a critically important message. He checked his watch again – the time was looming. He read on in the news: a terrible storm off Haenam Island kills many, also unveiling a large surplus of old military vehicles. Han officials were still debating how the tanks all arrived on the island, amidst rumors of a foreign invasion by communists. Takehiko sighed – at least the only thing that worried him was the ever-present struggle against the bakufu. With something as big as the Han Empire, and their choice to “open” to the barbarians, he could only imagine what sort of trouble they were having. Nihon was small – a good size to run an honest and simple country.
Takehiko checked his watch again. The time was running too late. Perhaps the messenger had been intercepted. He had no more time to wait and retired to the dressing room while his samurai waited at the balcony. Ito Nakamura – the chief retainer – would receive the message for him if it did arrive. Aiko smiled submissively as she undressed Takehiko and prepared the formal dress for him. It was an old tradition that was hard to kill in the “modern” age. It was a tradition that found women in high demand for the pleasure of men, while men were in demand for hard labor; the egalitarian tradition of more liberalized civilizations was all but foreign to the women on Nihon. Granted, women in the country were freer than those in the cities, but each woman was taught at an early age to serve men, who fulfilled so many necessary roles for the continuation and strength of society. Aiko was no different – she quietly dressed Takehiko in a silken robe, over which a velvet jacket would cover his torso. A leather belt around his waist finally, with his silken cap, would finish the touch. But unlike those daimyo of yore, Takehiko wore also a robe of interwoven plastic plates, to guard against knife and stray bullet attacks. He was guarded well by his retainers, but even he knew that they only needed one good bullet to kill him; protection on all levels was necessary. The guarded robe was hardly heavy, but it was certainly bulky, so to cover his added protection, Aiko put out another vest of leather under the velvet jacket. By the end of the dressing session, Takehiko was a heavy and hot man; but it was what kept him alive thus far. Upon his leather, Aiko fastened the sheath of his sword – a ceremonial blade that could hardly stand up to a real fight (but nonetheless useful in an emergency).
After it was all done, Takehiko turned to kiss Aiko, calmly saying to her, “I will be back home next week. Please take care of my garden.”
Aiko nodded complacently and walked out. It was also fortunate for her too, as Ito Nakamura suddenly approached the door, moving up to knock at the door. Nakamura politely bowed to Lady Aiko, as she departed to the ladies’ quarter. Nakamura then entered the room, bowing to the ground before Takehiko. “What news?”
“Sire,” he replied. “The message was received. Hiro has the bird.”
“Good. Meet me downstairs. Hiro knows how to treat the bird, so have the message ready for me before I get on the plane.”
Nakamura nodded and left the room. Takehiko looked at himself in the mirror before leaving, noting the increasing streaks of gray in his hair. He was becoming older and still he has not fathered an heir. In fact, he has hardly fathered any children – a disgrace in some families who cherish a wide family. But as the Shimazu have been in recent years “limited” in their progeny, seeing Takehiko as this was not misunderstood. He was an only child himself; his father the same, and his father’s father too. And now, he was the first man to only have a daughter in almost 5 generations, and the closest relationship between him and any other man was a distant fourth cousin who lived in Edo as a gambler and drinker. In his family, he was practically alone. He still had Aiko and his mother, Misaki, to raise a well-to-do daughter, but if experience told him anything, wedding a daughter to an honorable man was the riskiest part of the business. And especially if he wanted that man as his heir... even trickier in these days.
He arrived at the base of his castle, with a car waiting to take him to the airport, all on time. Nakamura was waiting there with a close group of retainers. Since they were traveling to Edo, Takehiko was allowed to bring only four samurai. He chose naturally the best four that he could. Ito Nakamura was his chief retainer and the oldest but most experienced. He was the only samurai to have seen the Mori Yamato attack on Kyoto, and in his time had dealt with hundreds of assassins. He was once the fastest blade in Satsuma, but now age was turning his swift speed to swift wisdom. At times, even Takehiko would turn to Nakamura for wisdom, and the other samurai would likewise heed his advice or warnings about any occasion. Suzuki Masao was another aged samurai, but not as old as Takehiko. His expertise was more along the lines of gathering intelligence, so he was often the first person to lead into any area. He could read terrain like no other person, and if an assassin’s threat was nearby, he would know it. He could also read lips and lies, as if reading a person’s minds, so Takehiko would always keep him close. Then there was Ishikawa Takuya, whose renown was hardly noticeable. In fact, he was a young grunt, who took up after his father Ishikawa Tetsuya, and learned how to use firearms. Hence, he was the only person who couldn’t use a sword for his life, but when it came to a gun battle, he was the best person upon whom to rely. He could snipe at person with a pistol from at least 100 meters, and one could only guess what he could do with a rifle.
But what of this Hiro character? It was a strange circumstance that brought Hiro into this favored quartet. Three years prior, Takehiko was challenged to a duel by a nobleman. Traditionally, duels were not allowed, but for reasons to his own, Tokugawa Shota permitted the occasion, on account that no man was killed. It was really a trick, because neither the assassin nor Takehiko would wait for the “kill”. It was an effective way for Shota to get rid of Takehiko and the assassin in the same breath, as long as someone died. During the course of the fight, the assassin pulled out a poison dagger and attempted to use it against Takehiko, but he missed every blow. He finally threw the dagger at Takehiko. Like before, he missed, with the dagger falling into the crowd. It landed in fact upon Hiro, who took the dagger from his leg and returned the favor with a throw that landed the knife squarely upon the same exact location as the assassin had thrown to him. Of course, since the assassin had “attacked” the crowd, the fight was thence canceled and the results annulled, honor restored to Takehiko; but he knew that the blade was poisoned, so he took up Hiro to his residence in Edo (leaving the assassin to die in his own miserable manner, killed neither by Takehiko nor the boy, but his own poison). Surprisingly, Hiro showed no symptoms of poisoning, and when they drew out his blood, it was perfectly healthy with only a bleeding wound to cover. More interestingly, when Takehiko asked the boy some questions regarding his own upbringing, he stated that he was an orphan child, with no father or mother. So who then was this child?
Takehiko took a great gamble, offering Hiro an opportunity to become a samurai. Now of course, with the rigid class structure in place following the edicts of Tokugawa Ieyasu, it wasn’t simply a matter of saying you are or you aren’t a samurai; if Hiro was to become a samurai, he would need to be adopted into a samurai family (either that or prove that his parents were in fact samurai). Barring other legal processes, Ito Nakamura took Hiro at that time as his “son”. So the simple answer – Hiro was Nakamura’s son.
But it was more complicated than that. Despite having no parents, and having had little training, Hiro proved to be very skillful at certain tasks. He was adept at the bow, the sword, and the pistol; he could climb up nearly vertical walls with little difficulty; he was even a good falconer, which was essential for Takehiko in these days (the falcon was the method of choice when sending messages, since the Internet was closely tracked by agents of the Tokugawa establishment). When Hiro returned to Edo as a samurai, it was easy for Nakamura to claim that he was his son, and easier still for Hiro to claim that he was a samurai. They still knew very little of Hiro, such as his age, his original parents, and even his birthplace, but what they did know was enough to convince others of the truth. They simply said that he was 24, born to Ito Nakamura and his wife, and had lived in Satsuma for all of his life; whether any of it was true or not did not matter at all.
The quartet awaited Takehiko as he went into the car. The driver politely bowed as he held open the door for the daimyo and his retainers. After they all entered, he firmly closed the door and went to his seat. As the driver readied to head for the airport, Takehiko turned to Hiro. “The message?”
“A crow is flying east to Fuji-san.”
Takehiko nodded. Everyone knew what the message meant. “We’re ready for the airport.”
Just for a little plot summary, the Empire of Ilbon (Japan) has had few political contacts with the outside world since the 1592 Wars with the Han Empire, beyond average commerce and trade with the Han Empire. The existing establishment is the Tokugawa Shogunate, with the Imperial establishment tacitly supporting the Shogun; there was no Meiji Restoration; Ilbon is basically what Japan would have been in the modern age without the abolition of the samurai caste. The Diet is basically a congress of daimyo lords. The technology is on par with modern, mostly located in Edo (Tokyo) despite the unrealistic relationships between the political and economic development of the country. The army is mostly feudal, with each daimyo having his own army of samurai, who are the only persons allowed to bear swords (soldiers can be conscripted from each domain owned by the daimyo, much like militia). In that regard, the Imperial House in Kyoto does not have a professional Imperial Army. Likewise, the daimyo rival the power owned by the Shogun, who traditionally owns the most powerful army in Ilbon.
However, growing tension among the lower daimyo has fed discontent with the existing power structure, each daimyo seeking a more republican-style of government. Lacking the military power, they have sought to make a larger alliance under a more formal political party – Nihon Gendai To (Modern Nihon Party) - to pressure the Shogun in the Diet to concede more political power. And this is where I will begin the story.
TAGS
OOC
General Plot
IC Communication
SIC Communication
If you are confused by any remarks, please consult me to determine the secrecy of the contents - in general, it is best to assume that all non-IC remarks are secret and therefore not known to any party beyond those present. Any plots that ignore this fundamental statement will be likewise ignored.
SATSUMA
Shimazu Takehiko woke up early that morning. The plane would leave the airport at 5:59am, in time to arrive at Edo by 10:00am for the Convention of the Imperial Diet. Aiko was ready for him, offering his morning routine of hot rice porridge and tea. It really was all of the time that he had that morning. He looked at the edge of the horizon, noting the anxious rise of the sun just beyond. Aiko walked calmly as she retired to the dressing quarters, preparing Takehiko's clothes for the trip. A number of retainers arrived soon after, dressing in silken garments, bearing the colors of the Satsuma Han (the domain of the Shimazu Clan). Takehiko slowly drank the hot tea as he read the news for that day. There were more riots in Kyoto, as people corralled outside the Imperial Residence protesting the new taxes authorized by the Bakufu. The Diet was to convene that day for the very reason - whether Tokugawa Shota had exceeded his mandate as Shogun. Why attack the Imperial Residence, if Shota lived in Edo? It was a relic of the Showa-go 21 (21st year of the Showa reign), when the samurai of Mori Yamato attempted to coup against the Tokogawa bakufu, stealing the Imperial Throne and consequently the seal from which the Tokugawa authority was derived. The incident caught few supporters and in fact only led to strengthen the Tokugawa’s hold over the Imperial Family. The Mori were stripped of their possessions, Yamato condemned to death by public beheading with a giant saw, and their possessions redistributed among the increasingly large Tokugawa family (with its numerous branches). Tokugawa Takayoshi had his son wed to the Emperor’s daughter, assumed all responsibility for the defense of the Imperial Family against future attacks against the most serene and divine authority.
Now, attacking the center of power in the bakufu was to challenge its political legitimacy, since they held all military power. The people… such a foreign thought that simple farmers could become so powerful. But farmers had their needs, and when the bakufu intruded upon these needs, the daimyo found that the people could challenge the bakufu; hence, the Modern Nihon Party (MNP). Shimazu was the traditional house where political dissent lay, and although in their early years they were more pleasing to the Tokugawa alliance, they managed to build such a strong popular front that any illegitimate attack upon members of the Gendai was easily rebuffed by the threat of public reprisal. It was proven once early in the Taisho, under the same Tokugawa Takayoshi – the tacit assassination of Saito Hiroyama from Choshu was marked with strikes from Hokkaido to Ryukyu. The strikes nearly brought upon intervention by the Gojong Emperor’s naval fleet, as a number of Han citizens were killed in the upheaval. Takehiko’s predecessors managed to cement a compromise deal that seemed to placate the people – end the taxes for leaving Edo. In return, the Gendai would encourage the people to turn their anger to grief for the loss of a “great man”, even as Takayoshi was irate over the whole humiliation. The diplomatic incident with the Han was settled over public punishment of the murderers implicated in the deaths of those citizens; meanwhile, the Gendai became the positive political foundation in the Diet. Takayoshi turned to more subtle political means, forming the Popular Nihon Party (PNP – or just Popular Party). The first years of the Showa reign were marked by increasing political fights between the Gendai and the Minshu, such that people proudly wearing the banners for either party could spark a riot. Naturally, the Minshu supporters were more likely to be spared from harsh sentences; nonetheless, the Gendai remained extremely popular with the commoners and the merchants, while the Minshu were popular among the daimyo. Incidentally, there were few members of the Tokugawa establishment who joined the Minshu, and consequently, power was more cemented among independent daimyo supporters of the bakufu.
What was the Diet anyway? Formed at the close of the Henno reign, the Diet was the supposed to be a “reason” for the daimyo to convene in Edo. For the past two centuries, the daimyo went to Edo as part of their duties, but aside from pillaging their wealth on gambling, women, and other risky adventures, they had nothing to do. As part of a petition to the liberal minded Tokugawa Takeda, the Diet would become the primary reason for the daimyo to convene in Edo, to vote upon resolutions and make suggestions to the bakufu, of whom many were present in the Diet (as a result of their merit to the Tokugawa family). In essence, it was the first breach into the traditional political supremacy owned by the Tokugawa family, and in spite of the numerous loyal members of the Diet (mostly due marriage and familial arrangements), daimyo resistant to the bakufu gained power and popularity. The first years of the Gendai were still dangerous, and many Shimazu daimyo were threatened by the Shogun – basically to “fall in line” with the bakufu – but owing to efforts to popularize their party, the legitimacy of the party in the eyes of their people grew. Among the “free” class – people who did nothing in particular for a living – the Gendai represented an opportunity to liberalize Nihon into a great power, like the Han Empire. In the aftermath of the Hiroyama assassination, Takayoshi’s efforts to make the Diet his pawn started brilliantly. Mirroring the success of the Gendai Party, the Minshu popularized their efforts as for the Empire (i.e. larger than the “people”). National compared to popular interests – it was a popular alternative, and many people bought it, particularly in urban centers and where those daimyo resided. It was the increasing popularity of the Minshu that led in part to the Showa-go 21 coup attempt. Nationalist opinion turned the Gendai into a scapegoat, from which the Shimazu managed to isolate themselves from the Mori, and consequently the coup attempt. The Gendai survived.
But why were those taxes so important to the Gendai? Well, in those days, the daimyo were required to pay a tax to leave Edo and return to their homes. It was a financial method to keep the daimyo close to the Tokugawa family, especially for those daimyo located so far away from Edo. It meant that daimyo had to pay a hefty price to leave Edo, reducing their capacity to plot against the bakufu. That tax was later translated into a general tax for all persons – foreign or otherwise – in an unrelated effort to improve the Shogun’s treasury. As transportation became more and more open to people, that tax was so burdensome to commercial development, which unfortunately was only permitted in Edo. A huge black market developed outside Edo, but the risks of running a market outside Edo was extremely dangerous. Even so much as congregating daimyos outside of Edo was perceived as “trade negotiation” and thus punishable by the same law. In the same stroke, abolishing the taxes would make the Gendai the champion of the people, as well as open the way for the daimyo to plot with greater liberty; each tax repealed was a punishing blow to the bakufu, as they scrambled for political control and sources of revenue.
Things had changed over the years, but nonetheless, Nihon was certainly not to its full potential. Edo was a bustling metropolis that held all of the power; the daimyos went home to scanty castles and pastures, farms, factories, or whatever happened to be the prerogative of the daimyo’s interests at a time. For Takehiko, his business was all fish and rice. Some boats too, but not as much as he would like, owing to restrictions on the number of boats any daimyo could own. He could buy extra permits to own more boats, but seeing as he couldn’t afford to keep as many boats and control political power in the Diet as the head of the Gendai, he resorted to using his limited resources to their full potential. Takehiko was a relatively creative and intelligent man. Learning the tricks of this ancestors, he was a noted political adversary to the bakufu, and thanks to the efforts of those same ancestors, he wielded enough political power to openly contest the bakufu at times. Of course, his life was a maze of political intrigue, as random “reporters” would frequently attempt to get him to make outrageous claims. His lips were tight, and what he said was clear and unambiguous when needed. The Tokugawa bakufu had little dirt to play upon him; moreover, he was a loyal and law-abiding daimyo, who did as the bakufu commanded him within the limits of the law. Of course, they could order him to disband the Gendai party, but he could just as easily “slip out” the information, leading to massive popular protests. Essentially, the political war was turning more and more into a war of etiquette, and Takehiko was the clear master. Shogun Shota himself was a potent advisory himself, having learned much of his skill through experience.
But to suggest that martial intrigue had subsided would be wrong. Assassins abounded in every crevice, coming from any crevice. Tokugawa didn’t need to hire any hands or even to persuade any hands to try their luck at the ploys, to which Shimazu had similar circumstances. To each, they wielded their own force of retainers, guardians who followed their masters with the utmost diligence, respect, and loyalty. Between the Gendai and the Minshu, there were several other groups. Imperialists – people who felt that neither popular nor bakufu, but rather imperial power should be paramount – crowded the streets, demanding a return to the grace and summit of the “sons of gods”. Indeed, how could the Heavens answer to men? And why then should the Emperor be a slave to the present bakufu? They were understandably a small, cult-like group, who practiced only the most traditional of customs; in general, they were outsiders, but they were formidable allies to the Minshu. On the other hand, the Zainichi – at first, a cultural phenomenon, then a cultural organization – became valiant outlaws, allies almost to the Gendai. The Zainichi were basically a group of foreigners (many of whom were Han expatriates) who basically opposed the nationalist tendencies of the Minshu, not necessarily for or against the bakufu itself. But as they were generally criminal masterminds (indeed, one of the largest organizers of the black market outside Edo), they also had their reasons to confront the Minshu. They were very efficient criminals, and whenever an occasion arose concerning the Zainichi, the Gendai did what they could within the law to reduce the penances against them, to frustration of the Tokugawa bakufu and the Minshu.
Takehiko finished his tea and left aside his porridge aside. He wasn’t feeling too hungry at the moment. Aiko came back out at the proper time and took away the cup and bowl, collecting it all neatly. Once she had put the dishes aside, she went straight to the dressing room, waiting for Takehiko. He was waiting for something himself. It was awfully dark, but in the darkness was a coming message, a critically important message. He checked his watch again – the time was looming. He read on in the news: a terrible storm off Haenam Island kills many, also unveiling a large surplus of old military vehicles. Han officials were still debating how the tanks all arrived on the island, amidst rumors of a foreign invasion by communists. Takehiko sighed – at least the only thing that worried him was the ever-present struggle against the bakufu. With something as big as the Han Empire, and their choice to “open” to the barbarians, he could only imagine what sort of trouble they were having. Nihon was small – a good size to run an honest and simple country.
Takehiko checked his watch again. The time was running too late. Perhaps the messenger had been intercepted. He had no more time to wait and retired to the dressing room while his samurai waited at the balcony. Ito Nakamura – the chief retainer – would receive the message for him if it did arrive. Aiko smiled submissively as she undressed Takehiko and prepared the formal dress for him. It was an old tradition that was hard to kill in the “modern” age. It was a tradition that found women in high demand for the pleasure of men, while men were in demand for hard labor; the egalitarian tradition of more liberalized civilizations was all but foreign to the women on Nihon. Granted, women in the country were freer than those in the cities, but each woman was taught at an early age to serve men, who fulfilled so many necessary roles for the continuation and strength of society. Aiko was no different – she quietly dressed Takehiko in a silken robe, over which a velvet jacket would cover his torso. A leather belt around his waist finally, with his silken cap, would finish the touch. But unlike those daimyo of yore, Takehiko wore also a robe of interwoven plastic plates, to guard against knife and stray bullet attacks. He was guarded well by his retainers, but even he knew that they only needed one good bullet to kill him; protection on all levels was necessary. The guarded robe was hardly heavy, but it was certainly bulky, so to cover his added protection, Aiko put out another vest of leather under the velvet jacket. By the end of the dressing session, Takehiko was a heavy and hot man; but it was what kept him alive thus far. Upon his leather, Aiko fastened the sheath of his sword – a ceremonial blade that could hardly stand up to a real fight (but nonetheless useful in an emergency).
After it was all done, Takehiko turned to kiss Aiko, calmly saying to her, “I will be back home next week. Please take care of my garden.”
Aiko nodded complacently and walked out. It was also fortunate for her too, as Ito Nakamura suddenly approached the door, moving up to knock at the door. Nakamura politely bowed to Lady Aiko, as she departed to the ladies’ quarter. Nakamura then entered the room, bowing to the ground before Takehiko. “What news?”
“Sire,” he replied. “The message was received. Hiro has the bird.”
“Good. Meet me downstairs. Hiro knows how to treat the bird, so have the message ready for me before I get on the plane.”
Nakamura nodded and left the room. Takehiko looked at himself in the mirror before leaving, noting the increasing streaks of gray in his hair. He was becoming older and still he has not fathered an heir. In fact, he has hardly fathered any children – a disgrace in some families who cherish a wide family. But as the Shimazu have been in recent years “limited” in their progeny, seeing Takehiko as this was not misunderstood. He was an only child himself; his father the same, and his father’s father too. And now, he was the first man to only have a daughter in almost 5 generations, and the closest relationship between him and any other man was a distant fourth cousin who lived in Edo as a gambler and drinker. In his family, he was practically alone. He still had Aiko and his mother, Misaki, to raise a well-to-do daughter, but if experience told him anything, wedding a daughter to an honorable man was the riskiest part of the business. And especially if he wanted that man as his heir... even trickier in these days.
He arrived at the base of his castle, with a car waiting to take him to the airport, all on time. Nakamura was waiting there with a close group of retainers. Since they were traveling to Edo, Takehiko was allowed to bring only four samurai. He chose naturally the best four that he could. Ito Nakamura was his chief retainer and the oldest but most experienced. He was the only samurai to have seen the Mori Yamato attack on Kyoto, and in his time had dealt with hundreds of assassins. He was once the fastest blade in Satsuma, but now age was turning his swift speed to swift wisdom. At times, even Takehiko would turn to Nakamura for wisdom, and the other samurai would likewise heed his advice or warnings about any occasion. Suzuki Masao was another aged samurai, but not as old as Takehiko. His expertise was more along the lines of gathering intelligence, so he was often the first person to lead into any area. He could read terrain like no other person, and if an assassin’s threat was nearby, he would know it. He could also read lips and lies, as if reading a person’s minds, so Takehiko would always keep him close. Then there was Ishikawa Takuya, whose renown was hardly noticeable. In fact, he was a young grunt, who took up after his father Ishikawa Tetsuya, and learned how to use firearms. Hence, he was the only person who couldn’t use a sword for his life, but when it came to a gun battle, he was the best person upon whom to rely. He could snipe at person with a pistol from at least 100 meters, and one could only guess what he could do with a rifle.
But what of this Hiro character? It was a strange circumstance that brought Hiro into this favored quartet. Three years prior, Takehiko was challenged to a duel by a nobleman. Traditionally, duels were not allowed, but for reasons to his own, Tokugawa Shota permitted the occasion, on account that no man was killed. It was really a trick, because neither the assassin nor Takehiko would wait for the “kill”. It was an effective way for Shota to get rid of Takehiko and the assassin in the same breath, as long as someone died. During the course of the fight, the assassin pulled out a poison dagger and attempted to use it against Takehiko, but he missed every blow. He finally threw the dagger at Takehiko. Like before, he missed, with the dagger falling into the crowd. It landed in fact upon Hiro, who took the dagger from his leg and returned the favor with a throw that landed the knife squarely upon the same exact location as the assassin had thrown to him. Of course, since the assassin had “attacked” the crowd, the fight was thence canceled and the results annulled, honor restored to Takehiko; but he knew that the blade was poisoned, so he took up Hiro to his residence in Edo (leaving the assassin to die in his own miserable manner, killed neither by Takehiko nor the boy, but his own poison). Surprisingly, Hiro showed no symptoms of poisoning, and when they drew out his blood, it was perfectly healthy with only a bleeding wound to cover. More interestingly, when Takehiko asked the boy some questions regarding his own upbringing, he stated that he was an orphan child, with no father or mother. So who then was this child?
Takehiko took a great gamble, offering Hiro an opportunity to become a samurai. Now of course, with the rigid class structure in place following the edicts of Tokugawa Ieyasu, it wasn’t simply a matter of saying you are or you aren’t a samurai; if Hiro was to become a samurai, he would need to be adopted into a samurai family (either that or prove that his parents were in fact samurai). Barring other legal processes, Ito Nakamura took Hiro at that time as his “son”. So the simple answer – Hiro was Nakamura’s son.
But it was more complicated than that. Despite having no parents, and having had little training, Hiro proved to be very skillful at certain tasks. He was adept at the bow, the sword, and the pistol; he could climb up nearly vertical walls with little difficulty; he was even a good falconer, which was essential for Takehiko in these days (the falcon was the method of choice when sending messages, since the Internet was closely tracked by agents of the Tokugawa establishment). When Hiro returned to Edo as a samurai, it was easy for Nakamura to claim that he was his son, and easier still for Hiro to claim that he was a samurai. They still knew very little of Hiro, such as his age, his original parents, and even his birthplace, but what they did know was enough to convince others of the truth. They simply said that he was 24, born to Ito Nakamura and his wife, and had lived in Satsuma for all of his life; whether any of it was true or not did not matter at all.
The quartet awaited Takehiko as he went into the car. The driver politely bowed as he held open the door for the daimyo and his retainers. After they all entered, he firmly closed the door and went to his seat. As the driver readied to head for the airport, Takehiko turned to Hiro. “The message?”
“A crow is flying east to Fuji-san.”
Takehiko nodded. Everyone knew what the message meant. “We’re ready for the airport.”