Overhead, a pair of CH-51s made their flight across the nearly marble blue skies of the Greater Tokyo area, the slaps and chops of their tandem rotors but a minor nuisance to those on the ground. Their green-and-brown camouflage made their presence more so apparent to any looking up or across from the skyscrapers of Tokyo as little black dots that glided through the sky, and soon to be made more apparent were dozens more pairs en route to various locations - mainly parks and large avenues.
Alas, to all the denizens of Tokyo, their interest was piqued not by that which was above, but rather by what remained on the ground.
Announced only by the faint rumble which they made, convoys of green and brown splattered vehicles, heavy APCs, and trucks with the occasional bully buckled and strapped down to their backs—the rather geriatric Type 74s—crawled the urban streets of Tokyo. Even while in transport, an oppressive aura had already been given off, where cars and vans paled in comparison as children were to businessmen. Both thought of each other as nuisances to their own activities. And just as Tokyo businessmen were, they were merely workers of the colony, obeying their march in neat columns. Convoys which were led and ended by rather meek trucks, their rear hoods hoisted up with the windshield, and large signs on either their front or rear bumper that proclaimed 'Military Convoy, Stay Back'.
Most found their posts near police stations, others near Government buildings. A sight that was exclusive to Tokyo in such radical action, even if only for then, for things could go wrong - far beyond what was foreseeable. And yet, with patience did the Japanese people wait, unable to fail to note the blaring silence that came overnight or the quietness that followed the noisy entry the SDF made. They simply did their best to ignore it, hoping it wasn’t a sign of anything to come as they all blended back into the crowd.
[+]
Kantei Speech Room
8:54 AM
The room was less a room, and more a small auditorium. There was but a morsel of space between the podium and the lines of cameras - their black eyes glistening under the clinically white incandescence. A familiar sight; the same cameras still of the same organizations, all in the same positions as they were in his predecessor’s last appearance to them, as if left to collect dust by the end of every speech.
A technician on the opposite side of the room to Shoichi looked to another, before giving a bow and a thumbs up to him. The signal sent him lumbering - not clumsily ‘nor with struggle - toward the stage. Upon arriving, though not yet filmed, he bowed a perfect thirty-degree angle at the foot of a set of steps, before continuing. Once more, he stopped - just by the podium. He bowed again, perfectly yet toward a banner that hung from a metal pole right behind, and then toward the direction the podium faced - his country’s flag and all those in the room. The bows were perhaps superfluous, the occasion one where he was only to be seen publicly whilst speaking, but it was all habit to him.
The cameras hadn’t been rolling just yet, so he adjusted what few strewn-together notes he had that barely counted as a script, clearing his throat. The cameras all yawed toward him, their microscopic bulbs flashing into a red glow on their faces in sequence.
He read out the first line as he looked directly forward, where he spoke with an unusual mixture of authoritative and casual tone. “Japan stands at a critical juncture for future prosperity.”
The camera shutters widened slightly as if to notion a sense of being startled by both his tone and message. Only subtly, but just so perceivable to him. Even if the movement was only a creation of his by-then sleep-deprived mind, there was no doubt at least one camera had zoomed in on him, and even more likely that a few others had joined in the fray.
Nevertheless, Shoichi continued only somewhat undeterred in full knowledge that he was undoubtedly being broadcast to millions and judged. Undoubtedly now being more carefully watched. “Very recently, we have been able to fully ascertain that the entire land area under the administration of the government, and sea and air regions under Japan’s exclusive economic zone has physically moved in such a manner that Japan is…” Subtly, he’d give a light lick to his upper lip - only extending outward by a fraction of a millimeter, so as to avoid being seen. Moreso, to avoid indicating any nerve on his part - lest it was miscommunicated as an indication of palter. He continued, “Japan is no longer on Earth. It can be said that we are on an alien planet now, as confirmed nearly entirely by several dependable space and scientific organizations. The full scale and effect of this incident are not fully known at the present moment but are suspected to be of a wide range and likely far-reaching into the future moving on. Though we hope for it to be temporary, there have been signs presented that it is a permanent scar.
As a direct consequence of this incident, the previous Prime Minister Nobuharu, on his diplomatic trip to the European Union, has been effectively incapacitated and as result, the Cabinet and I have resigned. Subsequently, I have temporarily assumed leadership of our country until a successor is nominated and appointed via standard protocol.
Acting in the best interests of the people and under the advisory of Doctor Tamika and the unanimous decision of both the Emergency Prevention Board and remaining Cabinet members, as of nine-AM today, I am declaring a state of national emergency to be effective in all prefectures, and concluded after an indefinite period.”
He heard the future drumbeat of people against him with their questions and protest. Who was he, to declare a state of emergency - someone brought to leadership solely from circumstance rather than by vote? Moreso was that it was to conclude after a range from a year or five to perhaps never.
“With the aim of preventing immediate and long-term unrest as a result of likely crises and mitigating the effects of such crises, we wish solely to protect the people in a manner that is mindful of national social, and economic stability through this action.
I plead for you, the people of Japan, to not be alarmed or panic. In this change, it may have already become obvious that many are now unaccounted for, to whose families I extend great condolences. And in turn, many are now stranded, to whom I extend the same sorrow.
I speak to everyone, the people of Japan, and those of foreign nations, driven by a strong sense of urgency. In a single moment, we have lost many things - those people of other countries we find close to ourselves, and those nations that had helped our own through so much hardship. Yet there is always opportunity that arises after loss, and we cannot allow ourselves to dwell on this loss no matter how insurmountable. Not for long. We may look back on this day and observe, just as we do for those of Hiroshima or all that was lost in Shikoku and Kyushu every anniversary of the great tragedy.
And just as in both instances, not all is lost. Conceding to fate and giving up is simply not an option, uncontrolled division within the people something we cannot afford: never has it been something we could afford, and now more than ever is it something we must not see.”
Shoichi projected himself with all the confidence he needed to, he’d hoped, rouse people just enough. He’d hoped it was just enough that what was to come next would be seen more as an acceptable yet unfortunate scar they’d all have to bear. Acceptable, rather than the seemingly arbitrary, and hastily crafted policies that they truly were.
“Due to the grave circumstances we find ourselves in, it is that with every effort of every member of the government, public and private sectors combined will we find ourselves in a significantly improved situation in the not-so-distant-future. And it is in this direction I intend on steering Japan toward. Though it cannot be said with certainty, there is a high likelihood already that many unsavory actions may have to be taken which affect the public in both negative and positive ways. However, I am wholly committed to working alongside, and with the public.
Already, I have set in motion action within the government to turn this pledge into reality, with every best wish made for the future state of our country. Heed these words that I have already begun working on a series of efforts to prevent the storms ahead from being any more than light rains if anything more than a cloudy day. We face several grave challenges, however, through collaborative effort, very soon we will have them overcome in such a way that far exceeds any current expectations should we remain hopeful.”
Having finished pledging his best efforts, the lights began once more to go out across the camera faces. Yet not a single mention of the armor which had made its way into the beating heart of Tokyo was made. Maybe an ominous sign that was a warning, or maybe instead a show of ineptness through the form of silent miscommunication.
[-]
9:39 AM
Standing far off to the side, Shoichi was just out of the people's eye. A short moment of relaxation, as much as the stress tried to knock it down. He almost began to step forward, but, not wanting to be seen as neglected as he was for such an appearance, gave himself a quick glow-up (if it could be called that). His merely modest suit was on the receiving end of a quick pat-down, the crumples flattened to a certain degree with the moist undershirt warm to his skin. Meanwhile, in the north, those rebellious strands which magnetized into what clumps of an ahoge they could were put down by the teeth of a comb from his jacket pocket.
Now he was ready.
Shoichi walked in from the right side of a dark-blue curtain, one far different from the usual pastel blue. He strode past a trio of organizers already stood waiting with hands by their sides who bowed as he passed.
He worried often, but then, too much. The speech was easy, in his mind, simply grinding down everything he’d been told and turning it into something palpable for the population. But the conference was far different. Given the tedious task of answering questions that could be anything, and the chore of quick wit on his aging mind.
He stepped up onto a wood podium with the softened taps of his shoes, from which glancing to his left he noticed rows upon rows of seats with in-built tables and microphones, once more, many more than usual. They were placed like a tightly packed classroom waiting for their lecture, where unexpectedly, most, if not all seats, were filled. Jittery people in barely more well-kept attire seated precisely where they should have been. Journalists. Several sharp snaps came in, the sounds shaking the air itself as the most luminous of camera flashes came in on cue.
They showed some surprise at his appearance, though left invisible as all faces kept themselves reasonably neutral. His suit was more ragged and crumpled than it was before. His hair was more fluffy than the usually slick texture. Barring this, his eyes gave it away, the windows to the soul left smudged and used. He had wished he could’ve smoothed his hair just a bit more, and straightened his tie just a bit better before entering. Alas, he would speak how he looked, no option for turning back now.
Shoichi paid no mind to the cameras, at least, he didn’t seem to. Already, he’d faced the cameras. Instead, he paused as his figure adorned by an almost pitying look quickly came to the top of some side steps, adjusting slightly to face a flag. The Hinomaru, held up high by a metal flagpole, her fly-end merely a dozen or so centimeters off the ground. He bowed down to it, the symbol of his country - his pride. From the lower torso up, he bent at a near-perfect forty-five-degree angle.
He then corrected himself and finished the short distance to a lectern center stage, continuing to face to the left of the attendees. Off-stage, someone checked their watch. He kept his eyes on this man, awaiting a signal, any signal. His thoughts were that it was only a few more seconds; those thoughts weren’t of the near eternity it did feel like simply standing on the stage with his newfound seniority in front of dozens of people who were sure to hold it up to scrutiny. He noticed a clock at the back of the room, however, where both hands were dialed three quarters of the way.
After one, maybe one-and-a-half of these mental eternities, his thought processes were interrupted by such a signal. The response was, in kind, one where he bowed once again, then to the attendees - all reporters who were on the edge of their seats - unwilling to bark and beg for answers, as was the norm in some other countries. The English and Americans quickly came to mind with that thought.
Shoichi stepped forward, moving about his script and aiding material to be more easily read, giving it a short skim. All the information that was feasibly available to him and the Cabinet. The rest would have to be inferred, or there could be no comment.
An unsympathetic voice came from off-stage which reassured him greatly. “We will now begin the press conference by the succeeding Prime Minister Shoichi. First, the Prime Minister will discuss the present situation, followed by a questions and answers segment.” The speaker spoke formally and at a pace that could be described as neither prolonged ‘nor rushed.
The word ‘succeeding’ lingered with his thoughts. Not of meeting any victories or success - far from, but rather being the one who followed in a long line of succession for a title he only could have guaranteed he would hold for a week at least. The reminder set off something, a neuron or two to fire that brought a slight sense of nervousness in quickened breathing.
He wanted to stall, take a short moment to deliver the unpleasant news to the dozens of restless, bouncing glances, like uncomfortable stares where they were doing so, yet tried to keep the facade by aimlessly looking around when noticed. The word of the day was worry, and they all seemed to have paid attention to that and taken it as a guide. His reputation was on the line, his career no less, and his country itself to top it all off. There was no telling how they'd respond, the journalists and the people watching. No telling what questions they would ask. Easily, he inferred there were far too many to be asked in far too little time. So he simply pushed himself over the edge - enough worrying about what they'd say or ask.
He looked around one last time before letting his jaw slip open. “As discussed previously in my announcement of the declaration of a state of emergency, an event of major significance has occurred to Japan where recently we have been able to confirm that the State of Japan has physically transferred to boundaries outside of those considered our own, and that subsequently, contact with all known nations was lost. This event has very easily arranged broad, widespread future effects within Japanese society and likely set along a cascade of unknown future events that are thus far indeterminable.
As such, of the several Cabinet meetings held today, the most recent meeting had agreed upon several key policies to dictate operations within Japan for the time being, and instructions are currently being handed down the ladder to management levels of appropriate seniority as well as the appropriate bills being drafted. Furthermore, the Cabinet has agreed to resign as a result of the disappearance of Former Prime Minister Nobuharu. In this, I assure to the public that I will be transparent and entirely truthful on matters pertaining to this physical transference.” Shoichi pronounced well, and clearly, though very nearly stumbled by the end with those words he’d never wanted to, never thought he’d need to say.
The reaction was muted. Some opted to stare wide-eyed in a manner he knew he’d have to get used to, some sagged into their chairs, and others racked with nerve shot their eyes around with fleeting, paranoid glances. Yet not a peep left their mouths, be it they were still then overwhelmed and still processing or they were afraid for the future.
All was followed by them screwing up their faces before those who weren’t already began furiously scribbling down the information on their paper pads, their suppression of their surprise kicking in. The information was already known - the core basics things he’d already prior discussed in his speech. They sure were professional in that, but there could still be improvements - some still looked like they wanted to bury their faces in their hands, borderline hyperventilating. Anxious, yet no longer impatient For that short span at least. They had been told more, and likely been told every drop of information that they needed to continue were it not said already in his speech.
“This concludes my opening statement; those of you who have questions, please raise your hand and speak into the nearest microphone and state your name and affiliation. I… will now be taking questions relevant to the situation at hand.”
The journalists happily complied, several raised hands towering over the stage and Shoichi; nearly outstretching the flag and the lights above. Those who did looked up and down, then between Shoichi and whatever notes they had gingerly thrown together with frantic enthusiasm. Or maybe not enthusiasm.
They all looked amongst themselves, exchanging glances with one another, and a realization set in as hands slowly and reluctantly plunged back down until all but one remained.
Through the microphone came a soft voice, like that of a mother calming her child. Looking around it was rather straightforward who it was - a relatively presentable reporter, hair tied up into a small bun. “Hatsuka, Hiruno Shimbun - Concerning the declaration of a national state of emergency earlier, why exactly was one issued, and was it completely necessary?’” Short, simple. Straight to the point - she seemed a good reporter, and her appearance certainly wasn’t as scruffy as some others in the room from such short notice. All that was expected from Hiruno.
This didn’t discount the fact that it was an easy question, yet still, one just as if not more important than many of the others he could’ve expected. It wasn’t the best though, simply asking him to reconfirm as if begging for the final nail in the coffin to be messily banged into place. The failure in any pretense or delusion that what had been happening hadn’t were smashed, and the reminder that what was happening was indeed happening, and in the way it already had unfolded.
He gave the question not a second of thought, and opened in such a way no fool could mistake it for anything else so as to get it out of the way. “The initiation of the state of emergency was made to protect the livelihoods of the people and to assert policies that would be mitigative to whatever negative effects may be experienced. We had sought an opinion from several experts beforehand, as well as ensuring there was unanimous support within the Cabinet to ensure that asserting such a state nationwide was a sound idea.
To achieve greater public cooperation, we found it was a necessary step in advancing Japan in the correct direction in overcoming this, uh, tragic set of unique circumstances we have found ourselves in. Without public cooperation, it would be exceedingly hard to have achieved much progress in persevering let alone mitigating the negative effects.”
The camera clicks woke from their silence and rose, and he could be sure the boxy video cameras were zooming in on him by that point. There was no comedic audience gasp, rather only filled by restrained facial expressions to convey the general feelings of those in the room. To them, perhaps choosing to ignore his words, found instead it to be uncanny for him to speak so directly.
It hadn’t taken long, but already it had appeared as if the truth of the situation - the full reality of what was happening, even with his statement on the event, was just setting in for some of the journalists.
Another hand up, now by the bug-eyed “Shoji, NSH. This… This tr-" The boy found himself stuck on his words for a second, leaving in the void of an awkward second's silence filling the time, and rather clumsily so. Shoichi looked up from his notes, as did many others who followed, to the reporter. The reaction was natural, but still, a level of professionalism was needed. Now more than ever too were the people to at least get the basic details of what had happened. “Transference,” he slowly continued, “as called by the Government, has stranded thousands of foreign nationals, and uh…” The reporter pulled open a document, pausing as they did. “With reports indicating that upward of one million foreign residents that have resided in Japan for periods above ninety days, and an unknown number, though expected to be much higher, for a shorter period, are currently present. Because…” The reporter stopped for a moment. “Because this is an issue of possible major contention, could you, uh, tell us how, uh, MOFA and MHA intend on dealing with this situation - especially on handling possible cultural or emotional issues that may arise in attempting to handle such foreigners, especially in such large numbers?”
Every word of the question was sent out slowly as if deliberated over as he said them, and almost said in such as way that it was almost mockingly. He certainly wasn’t the smoothest with his words, but nobody ever was, and especially not then. The question was long and grueling, and a tough one right off the bat. One with no clear or easy answer - not yet at least, or maybe never to have one. Far too many issues and sub-issues presented themselves with glee as the question was read out, and all Shoichi could do was look on in horror.
“The…” Shoichi sighed, cutting himself off. “The current Government policy we intend on establishing for stranded foreigners is to provide some responsibility to their national delegates for the administration of such people. For now, our primary concern for stranded foreigners lies in handling those of major concern to the people of Japan. Namely American and Chinese nationals… with a particular focus on the Americans especially considering their bases and mixed public opinion of them.
We have already issued bulletins informing all foreign ambassadors and leading diplomats of the situation alongside messages of condolences, though for the time being, we are investigating solutions such as potentially awarding foreign nationals citizenship. No further comment.” The last line Shoichi spoke was possibly the most contentious he'd provided thus far, perfect fuel for the nationalists to douse the conservatives with, maybe even the moderates. The reaction by the reporters to this line of business, however, was still primarily the same professionalism that had taken hold for the previous few; all reporters silently watching, asking, or recording.
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A third arose, now by a certain “Shigeo, SCODGE. With the resignations of the cabinet, has a date already been decided upon for snap elections to be taking place, and is there a possibility of the dissolution of the Diet taking place as a further lead-on effect of this transfer’s severance of key political figures?” Though more influenced by the Americans than remaining in truth to its Japanese origin, the Satellite-Cable Outlet of Diet and Government Entities (SCODGE) was of a similar breed to Hiruno. Hell, they even had a semi-decent acronym, in English that was, but one they held high nonetheless which Shoichi corroborated in opinion. The question was right to the point, not so insightful, but certainly a fairly mature one. Their correspondent, Shigeo, had been almost robotically emotionally tuned out the entire time, to the point that it was uncanny. This didn’t stop it from being boring, only somewhat unnerving, even in Shoichi’s mind - he’d even reckoned a few of his colleagues would agree, even if their channel was more exciting than their office jobs.
And doubtlessly, the snap elections would have to be soon - though working for a few years in the Diet, and as part of Nobuharu’s cabinet for a few more, he’d only vaguely picked up on any real decision-making, the majority of his time relegated to as he was doing at the moment, or preparing for such. Still, he knew he’d have to accept the responsibility, and hell, he thought he could probably even run. The real question instead was how quickly could everyone in the Diet push things along. There had to be an exception to their history, and in his mind, no matter what did happen, this would have to be the exception. So long as the Diet was pushed to get a response going, it was good. With this in his mind, Shoichi let his response free from its mental shackle.
“The date for snap elections to be taking place within the diet cannot be said just yet, as, uh, far too little is currently certain… though considerations for a date within at least this month have been made.” During speaking, a soreness had crept up his throat. By then, it had come to the point of reaching a sort-of instinctual scratching need. Taking a short pause, he picked up a glass in front of him and took a much-needed gulp of water before continuing. “For your second question, though there is the possibility of dissolution of both houses of the Diet, we will presently refrain from advising so, and push against such an occurrence in order to prevent any form of political paralysis to ongoing events.”
A lanky hand went up, this time by a skinny-looking man with a pair of round spectacles under an unkempt combover, the kind expected more of a college student than anything. “Koichi, Futsūdan. This morning, many people along highways to Tokyo began reporting of military movements towards the city,” the reporter asked with a dead yet quick voice. They’d calmed already, no longer stumbling over their words as the NSH reporter had. “Could you thusly comment on the legality of military units being present in the heart of Tokyo and the reasoning for such a presence?”
The decision most of the Cabinet had agreed on to some extent in the first meeting, and affirmed unanimity in the second meeting. The legality of such radical action was surely one to be questioned, though when pertaining to the SDF and any sign of militarism, a drastically different story was read. Since its very inception, it was bound to controversy, and he could be sure he’d ordered a new one onto them and most others in the Diet, even if it was merely confined to the largest of urban centers in Japan, and even if assured it was reasonably legal.
Shoichi partly opened his mouth before quickly slamming it shut as second thoughts rushed in. Just as before, he’d have to be careful with wording. “Deployment of Self-Defense Force assets is in no way indicative of martial law. Earlier, we instructed these assets to be put toward reinforcing peacekeeping operations under civil disaster operations in key urban centers where unrest would be likely and possibly highly disruptive. We do not entirely expect civil unrest as the likeliest outcome, but as a measure for if such does occur, their deployment to reinforce local police forces is necessary to prevent provocation of the forseeable worst-case scenario. Civil law is being maintained, and the Supreme Court and law experts have indicated that this action does remain in line with the constitution and existing legal framework.”
As Shoichi concluded, the next reporter immediately presented themselves, to which he accepted their request with a nod. In turn, the reporter stood and spoke with some enthusiasm backing their voice. “Hiroyuki, Tōkyō Mainichi - er, with uncertainties and ambiguities toward both the state of our country and whatever can be found outside of our national borders due to an extreme range of possibilities as well as drastic circumstantial changes, are there any ideas as to what fiscal year nineteen-ninety-nine’s budget may look like, and what changes may have been made to the pre-existing one?”
Shoichi pinched his lips together as he listened, knowing the direction the question would take the moment they began speaking. It was only natural they would’ve asked, wishing to know where their tax dollars would have headed - even if they could’ve waited just the shortest bit for the budget negotiations in the Diet to have taken place. He could only speculate what it would have been, though some changes were all but certain.
Seemingly satisfied yet again with his thought process, Shoichi’s lips loosened as the words flowed from his mouth into the microphone. “We have decided so far that we must protect not only the people, but also the livelihoods of the people, and ensure long-term economic vitality. But in the meantime, it is sure that there is intent on placing spending toward social and economic stimulus programs to ensure continued growth in not only key sectors, especially with a significant decline in consumer spending forecasted by the Ministry of Finance. Furthermore, it is reasonable to say so far that increases to uh, increases to agricultural, industrial, and defense spending may occur and could be expected, though I have no further comment.”
Some journalists turned to each other as he finished, discussing in hushed whispers to one another for once. There was a short period of nearly awkward silence as Shoichi waited for another to rise to challenge him.
Mid-thought of asking for more, another rose with another question. “Fumiaki, Nikkan Yūhan Shinbun… Er, the most recent reports released by the… the MITI indicate that we imported seventy-nine percent of our energy in nineteen-ninety-seven and seventy-eight percent in nineteen-ninety-eight. With… the sudden cutoff from our key energy sources, being foreign trade, what action will the Government be taking to prevent the provocation of an energy crisis emerging - especially with our reliance on outside sources and the question of future self-sufficiency?” The reporter asked with a wet lip, disinclined from speaking as they drew out each word.
Energy independence was an issue, that he could agree with. But the solutions, not so much. Almost all that the former meetings had established as possible would put a burden on the average citizen, end up working far too late, or turn out to be radically controversial. The three things he'd dearly need to avoid - especially if he intended on getting the public’s favor as a leader. Though there were certainly many yet-to-be-uncovered solutions, they for no other reason than failing to have presented themselves in the minds of many-a brilliant bureaucrats thusly couldn’t be spoken of. The only pragmatic approaches would force his hand - to push vague frameworks that bit hard into policy, and all to guarantee their problems were solved years ahead of when they needed to be.
The Prime Minister gave the question a short thought, before grunting out a response. One that he felt hit right. “We are considering appropriate responses available to resolve to the energy issue that is faced, however we have yet to find a timely and suitable long-term solution that would be to be either practical or sustainable that would not involve further exploration of territories beyond established Japanese territory.” Shoichi paused, looking up. Their expressions depicted feelings that were expected, but less than ideal - mostly shock with some hints of anger, maybe at the government, or the unknown entity behind it all, if there even was one.
He’d moisten his lip and continue. “Currently, however, it is safe to say there most likely will be restrictions toward energy usage of all ranges - either on curfew or total - in all sectors barring emergency services, industries vital to Japan, state resources, and military purposes, but I will make further announcement at a later date detailing the plan after consultation with the Industry Committee and leading energy firms. On the topic of self-sufficiency, no comment can be made at the time.” Speaking solely from assumption and inference, the answer was clear, at least in his mind. It wouldn’t be so great for all, with fuel rationing an occurrence they’d all have to suffer through. Though the cities were at least walkable, and on the bright side, it’d be somewhat nice to catch a snow-blanketed Tokyo without the distant noise of cars. But how wrong it would all feel.
Offshore rigs could take well into five years to build and set up, maybe three if they worked at a good pace - and all the effort for a single solution that would come too late. There were always others, of course, but none timely enough - none practical enough. Something for a committee of experts and bureaucrats to decide.
The next hand, the next reporter. Shoichi finally looked over as he snapped out from his line of thinking for the prior question, head snapping right to the questioner. “Keiichi, Nihonkōkyō Hōsō. I have a follow-up question relevant to the last one asked; the MAFF had reported that not only very recently have we had an all-time low in food security, but also have consistently been on decline in the past few years. However, it was stated in an earlier conference by Minister Katsuo that the MAFF planned on pushing for policies that would allow for twelve percent more agricultural produce this year - could you clarify upon this?”
The specifics of it weren’t known to Shoichi, though the overall idea struck enough of a chord for him to remember the general gist of things as recalled from a Cabinet meeting a few weeks before the unfolding circus around him. Leaning back, he left a long pause before responding, where he looked down to his lectern.
“The MAFF were drafting several bills pre-transference on this issue, intending on increasing agricultural output by focusing on reduction on inefficiencies and promoting increased output, as well as implementing a central guiding policy for the agricultural industries to improve food availability. Though I am aware one of these was to replace the Nineteen Forty-two Food Control Act and Agricultural Basic Law of Nineteen Sixty-one, and that they were to continue government purchase of staple foods through these laws, I am unaware of the specifics at the present moment. However, in discussions with Minister Katsuo, I have been assured that relevant changes to such documents are being made concerning our current circumstances.” Shoichi would say, looking up as he finished speaking from the paper. He looked around the room, waiting for the next reporter as he sensed the conference to have slowed by a fraction. In one draught, Shoichi downed the rest of the water available to him.
The room remained silent for the most part, the reaction stale, and the few clicks and clacks of cameras being the only intermediary before another hand went up. It was a boring response to a largely boring question that few would remember, yet many would inevitably feel.
Especially compared to the question and answers which followed and preceded them - those of a possibly fantastical world beyond, and pressing issues people cared for more than those involving food shortages. But maybe it was the wording - maybe he was getting old, and lapsed in thought whilst going over a crucial part in his response. He'd look through the document he had on hand. There was nothing else, besides the flurry of colors that were charts and graphs thrown onto the page of seemingly arbitrary figures by seemingly random ministries, pages which twisted not only themselves but also the mind.
Yet another soft-spoken voice came about, “Tomoko… ZTK, with the disappearance of known friendly and hostile nations, all to be unknown if even present, what is the Government's plan for the situation of first contact with foreign nations, and what approach will be taken with such completely unknown countries or collectives?"
"Few first-contact scenario preparations have been made thus far, though currently, I can state that long-range air patrol JMSDF assets have been sent beyond our borders to ascertain a brief idea of the situation internationally.
On the note of the overall diplomatic approach, the Government intends on ensuring positive, healthy long-term relationships, especially with those nearest to our country, by using sensitive and careful approaches to foreign matters. Furthermore, special considerations are being made and advisory in line with what could only be called planetary protection principles may be undertaken, especially as to prevent contamination resulting in ecological, biological or humanitarian disaster both in forward and back contamination.”
Already they were on shortfall of time, yet simultaneously and already they promised of a fantasy - ‘planetary protection,’ as if any of it mattered to Shoichi. It mattered certainly to keep the people happy, but to hell with it if they could save a few days and get everything going along quickly. Sure, they could completely de-barnacle a ship in a month, but they needed something soon. The far-off dream of a month would have to be brought down to a week at most were he to attempt to satisfy everybody. Trade was vital, and if there wasn’t any trade, resource extraction was the name of the game.
Shoichi readjusted entirely, shifting weight to his left foot, and considered leaning forward again to put weight through his arms onto the table, yet inevitably went round. Rather, he’d shifted the remainder to his other, and stood unevenly with his hands on the table, though with no pressure put down. Yet he wanted to, a way of assertation and letting off steam even if only the tiniest bit. The former was simply inappropriate for the situation though, and the latter could wait for later, regardless as to if all had mounted and built up or not.
The next question came from “Keiji, Zenkoku. In regards to your previous statement on JMSDF air assets being sent beyond our borders, could there be a comment on the legality of the deployment of SDF assets toward unknown nations, especially so early into a crisis where more focus would be needed within Japan, especially where this kind of action could be seen as irresponsible?”
Shoichi wouldn’t dare say it was irresponsible. His speaking was always strained with lips pressed shut together whenever knowing legality would be a major hurdle for any actions those he worked with would have to take. Deep down, he’d wished they didn’t have to follow any of the regulations set in place. Here, he could explain himself, even if the scholars would argue.
“This issue was consulted upon with the Supreme Court and Ministry of Justice over its legality, but what is currently understood and agreed upon is that we would not need diet approval for their deployment for what is more accurately an extended maritime patrol with no hostile intent.
For your second point, great importance has been put on the safety and well-being of the people, from which knowledge of what lies beyond as soon as possible for a timely and appropriate introduction to the international situation would assist greatly. Thus, I would not call such a course of action to be irresponsible.”
Shoichi would cough as he concluded, subconsciously covering his mouth with a pre-clenched fist as he did. His eyes swept the room, just as they had done many times before - just as they had done many times in this session. The journalists winced at the information, each word adapted to as they wrote with the professional furor of a thousand suns on something they all could spin to their respective organizations’ beliefs. Shoichi could only further be sure that the cameras in the back of the room watched omnipresently, just as the flickering and snaps from photographers had been throughout the session, their reels ready to be cut and edited for view.
Another reporter raised their hand, before speaking out with an authoritative voice. “Ryo, Seiiki Shinbun - has there been any indication from internal government or religious sources up to this point that this impossibility; this transference may have been caused by the Kami?” At first hearing, the question was simple. Boiling down a complex event down to something any layman could understand and get behind, and a possibility anyone could easily accept were there to be indication of truth behind it. Yet there was none. Not yet, or at least, not now.
Shoichi’s reply was cold and robotic, tired of receiving what felt like yet another question with no real answer, yet now one many who were far more deeply ingrained in such beliefs could identify with. It was best to play it safe. “So far, we have received little to no indication from any key sources, religious sites across Japan especially, that the Kami were behind the event. An investigation will have to be launched toward it, however, we cannot conclusively place any blame of the cause of the transference on any one thing, the especially.”
With the topic of religion finally entering the conference and receiving a sub-par answer, almost all the reporters were silenced and seemingly sated at their questionnaire buffet. No hand went up immediately. One second, then two. Three into four, and at five there still were no hands, ‘nor any journalists leaning into their microphones.
Taking a hint, Shoichi politely asked, “Are there any other questions?” A few more moments passed with no raised hands and no introductions. The questions had ended their barrage. It was the silence after for which he was grateful. “If not, this will conclude today’s press conference. Thank you.” Shoichi would conclude with a formality.
At long last, no more questions were sent. They may have lingered, especially soon amongst the general populace, but by then even the journalists had all that they wanted. Shoichi himself wanted only to wipe whatever sweat had gathered on his forehead, though yet again decided against it. Not in front of the crowd. Still, there was a sigh of relief. Hard questions had been asked, some that were specific, and others with an answer so easily expected, even if the conference itself lacked a clear focus on a sole topic.
Looking around, Shoichi noted the clock at the far end of the room. Whilst the minute's hand had completed its arduous trek back to the start, the hour's hand remained just a tick behind.
[~]
Prime Minister’s Office
11:37 AM
None of that was normal. Each topic was given a single question, maybe two if it was important enough, before being superseded by another burning question for an undoubtedly different topic. The speech was prepared so quickly, and so reassuring at that. And then, of course, the elephant in the room - not the sleepless night of carefully monitoring the situation, but rather the situation itself. He’d appreciated the work everyone was putting in, even if absolutely beyond the realm of overtime. But with what they had been working against, it all felt almost impossible - like chipping away ounces of material from a mountain and calling it a job well done.
It wasn’t as if the country’s collapse was imminent, per se, but rather that it was simply a possibility. An unwelcome possibility that though may not have been so likely, certainly wormed its way into making everyone think so.
Shoichi sat slumped back in an office chair, eyes struggling with his mind to shut themselves under jarringly intense light. His mouth was left hung slightly open, trying to suck in whatever moisture there was in the dry, dry air. He couldn’t help shake the feeling of unease, probably even with a good night’s rest as if he was to get any.
Then successive thunks which rung through his ears - piercing enough to slide down his spine. A light knock on the door, three taps in rapid succession. News. New information. But of what, from who?
Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he’d call out for whichever one it was to nag him to do so, “Yes, come in,” he’d say, watchful of the door from under halfway closed eyes. All sense of formality had lost itself on the way out as he spoke. Get it over and done with, was his one request. Twenty-nine hours of straight work from both the night before and the ensuing crunch from the turn of the day had taken their toll on the man. A far too taxing toll.
The door suddenly pushed itself open, the commotion of government employees navigating the hallway in the background a stark contrast to his peaceful, almost lazy office. Probably the only solace he’d get for another forty-eight hours.
Pulling himself up from his slump, he’d eye the door, a blurred figure standing tall. Between the bright light stood the all-too-recognizable silhouette of the still Deputy Toyoaki. It had to be of some urgency then. But what now? Shoichi scraped his mind for what it could’ve been, yet struggled - unaided, he failed to muster enough power to think of anything let alone come up with a complex thought.
Shoichi continued to visually follow the door as Toyoaki walked over and bowed. Halfway through pulling himself up from his seat to return the favor, Toyoaki interrupted by elaborating with a less-than-enthusiastic voice. “Mister Prime Minister, majorities in both Diet houses have called for an extraordinary session to be convoked; your presence will be needed six hours from now to open the session and for a plenary meeting.”
Some energy shot back into him as his head turned about the room, restlessly inspecting every corner and crevice as he almost fell out of his chair with paranoia. “N- now!? H- have they already decided on the length of the session?” An unexpected development - they usually loved taking their time in possible national emergencies. Easily, he’d recall a time they took half a month to handle earthquake relief back in… Eighty-four? Eighty-five? Whenever it was that he held the post of Minister of Foreign Affairs, all of those years had become meaninglessly the same to him. Again, the same recollection came for another in the seventies when he was merely an aide to an advisor to the deputy of a chairperson under a committee, all wrapped under an agency responsible for land planning too. A time that was far gone.
And even when the response was swift, harking back a few years to ninety-five, the diet deciding so quickly on declaring an extraordinary session to be convened was a rarity - whether by events seldom happening when it was closed, or all involved having to wade through a deep enough sea of red tape that few considered it worthwhile to do so despite all others coming to the same conclusion. Suffice to say, it was more than unexpected for Shoichi.
Yet the meeting served as an excellent opportunity; one to push the diet in the direction of passing bills, to push as many councilors and representatives to side with him. Especially with all the possible ideas floating around for how to resolve the situation at hand.
Though simultaneously, already, he was tired, and with a mere tiny fraction of all the work done - only an advisory session, two meetings, and reassurances to the public and media ticked off of the time vampire of a checklist. Regardless, he could only try to harden his mind for any more surprises to happen soon - whoever was in command of the dice of fate was clearly in a fouled enough mood to put it all on his plate. Well, his, and many others he’d admit, but he’d felt he bore far too much weight already. Maybe he could run for candidacy, though the odds looked slim.
Toyoaki pursed his lips as he came up with a response, wanting to look at the man in charge with some disdain, yet stopped himself from shifting any part of his face to such a sneer. “Uhh, two months - so now to March sixteen.” He’d say, The man in front of him was fit for speeches and roiling the people as he usually did in his former roles, not leading the entire country. To call him Prime Minister had left a slightly foul taste in his mouth. To Toyoaki, Shoichi would have to prove himself, with a sentiment probably shared by the rest of the country. And it was only worsened by the fact that he was with the Daiseiken - as if they ever had a chance against the combined force of both the Ōta-ken and Kanmuseishin in NDP party elections.
Forcing back an amused chuckle, Shoichi looked up toward Deputy Toyoaki. “Alright, anything else on the agenda before the Diet’s first meeting?”
“Yes, Mister… Prime Minister” He’d answer, teetering on saying Secretary as he had done for upward of a year. “Pending will be several initial reports by Diet Committees and several commendations are being made for the promotions of a new advisory council to the Prime Minister. Moreso, that MSDF flight sent off earlier should return within the hour.”
The SDF flight they’d sent off. It was some tough stuff for the aircrews, and it would be interesting, to say the least, to see what they’d return with. A trove of information was expected, and though fanciful to expect any sort of advanced understanding, whatever they did discover was a dice roll. Shoichi entertained the thought; for certainly it couldn’t have been futuristic, or at least of any relevant modern setting for Japan to have gone undiscovered for so long unless completely by intent. So the thought went backward - a decade, or maybe a century? Millenia came to mind, though by then, the entertainment value of the thought had been lost.
Expressing some of his ideas in words, he spoke up, “Excellent; I’d be greatly interested especially in the report those boys in the JMSDF can come up with.” He’d only hoped people, especially the diet being their representative, would at least condone their deployment. The last thing the cabinet needed was chicanery by the LPP and SP, or worse so, other factions of his own party. “And after, anything of importance?”
“Remaining NDP leadership have called an impromptu leadership election via… extraordinary convention at the Hanabatake Hotel Tokyo - our attendance will also be required tomorrow.” The man paused, pressing down a can onto the table with a bright orange tone far different from the pales of the room. “Also, I brought you this from downstairs - you, and you still do, looked like you needed it.”
Shoichi in return creaked open his eyes to the most wondrous of sights which harked back to days similar, forty years gone by. A sleek, tall three-hundred-and-a-half or so milliliter can of an American brand of energy drink; now a relic of a time when American goods were imported which was still a meagre twelve hours prior.
A can of Jumpin’ Jack.