Chapter 1: May Our Country Know True Peace

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Note: From this point forward, I'll call myself rose, so this is rose. I am the unofficial, fan translator of Summoning Japan's web novel (After Mob of Deer) and light novel. (After Yukkuri) I will try to keep it concise. This was something I wanted to do for a while but thought on the whim. While the original Summoning Japan was great, it was personally lacking in a lot, but I will give Minorou (the author) the credit of creating a considerable template that spawned a lot of stories, including this one, which is a server-effort to make a sensible Japan (and the others) and story. Thanks for giving this pilot a try. Have a rose ✿

As of April 22, 2022, this chapter has been rewritten.

・・・

Gregorian Calendar XX/09/2021 (DD/MM/YYYY), Yasukuni Shrine, Tokyo, Japan, 19:00

Clap

The weak, dry sound of two hands coming together in a praying position echoes in the crisp, cold air of early autumn. The ripples of the clap mildly disturb the sheets of orange and brown falling from the trees. Before long, they land on the coarse stones of the pathway that trace a wide line of white through the earth, leading to the grand temple of natural brown and gleaming green–the haiden of Yasukuni. Standing underneath its imposing, wooden columns and white banners fluttering in the auspicious wind was a single man clad in formal black, his modest stature alone in the presence of the kami, Japan's divine spirits.

Despite the knitted red scarf neatly wrapped around his neck, the man shivered from the September chill, his every breath condensing midair and his hands raised up in prayer, quivering. It may have been due to the cold, but it may have also been testimony to his rickety relationship with the shrine, for his father, a soldier under the former Imperial banner and one whom he never met, was listed among the dead that Yasukuni honors. Whether the man's current visit was due to this loose sentiment or the fact that he lived close to the shrine, only he knew, but the unyielding glare of outside attention could have never assumed either.

"我が国は真の平和にあらんことを。" (May our country know true peace)

The man, Takamori Hideaki, whispered underneath his scarf.

To his friends and family, he was a man who believed in breaking the trend to become a trendsetter. His late aunt remembers him for his kind demeanor. His childhood friends remember him for ousting the incumbent student council president in an attempt to get the teachers to cease summer and winter homework. He was known for being frank to his colleagues at work, a no-nonsense man who detested being roundabout. However, to the rest of the world, he was a man who was recently elected to the office of the Prime Minister of Japan.

Having climbed up the political ladder that had eventually landed him in the National Diet and then later the president of the Liberal Democratic Party, he was only revered for his mostly acceptable stance on socio-political matters. Regarded as a man with thorns, he dived right into the crux of problems, which made him look rash and bold, but it landed him in hot water with countless people, even those whom he considered allies. Despite his frustrating lack of inability to read the atmosphere, everyone respected the man's lack of regard for social norms–a departure from the typical politician that dared not upset the status quo. Still, his election to the office, while surprising, kept many on the edge of their seats. This hopelessly ballsy man was about to go toe-to-toe with the monolith that was the Japanese people, a monotonous population colorfully brimming with endless desires and hopes but held down by social expectations, dated beliefs, and values that border on self-destruction.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object: an imaginative scenario with answers bound to surprise and disappointment.

Nevertheless, the man was unmoved in his destiny.

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