The letter tore a hole in your heart, there was no other way around it. You reread it when you got home from your last shift, then again the next morning. You smudged her beautiful handwriting with tears, as she laid out what had happened to her, how bad it'd been. The letter lacked the usual
Opened By Navy Censor stamp her postage usually had, meaning she'd broken the law to send it through the regular post. You couldn't imagine how hard that was, wherever she was out to sea.
You wrote a sprawling letter back, sent it, and then had to bury your feelings as best you could. School was coming up soon and you needed to be ready for it after the conclusion of the mid-summer holiday. There would be tests to study for, papers to write, and projects to assemble and you needed to be on top of your game. 'Good enough' was not good enough for you, you were an
ambassador in the school, you and your classmates. You cut some of the WEL activities out of your schedule and devoted more time in your day to hitting the books, either at home or the library on campus.
You also decided to spend more time on
yourself, which meant enjoying a good book or a nice cup of tea or just doing
nothing when you needed to. You were catching up on a serial story, written by some Army medical officer or somesuch: you'd started reading it just before you arrived in Tokei, and fallen behind, but now it was on hold due to the author's duties and it made you feel you could catch up. It was set about thirty years ago and was a domestic drama of sorts, about a woman who becomes the mistress of this awful banker, hoping to use the money to establish a life for herself and her girlfriend rather than having to marry.
It was a hard read, but
fuck did it resonate with you. A mixture of awful and cathartic, you were greatly enjoying it, though you really hoped it wouldn't do something awful, like having that medical student become a love interest who
rescues the protagonist. Eww.
You were just about caught up with it, and just about refreshed on your studies, when the first day of school inevitably arrived and you shuffled off a crowded streetcar and back onto campus. They'd strung up a huge banner welcoming students and extolling them to study hard for their country, and there was a little stand set up to buy war bonds. No doubt wishing to part some of the richer students from as much of their allowance as possible through patriotic urges.
As you moved past the table staffed by patriotic young fellows, one of them who was handing out leaflets and trying to urge others to give to the effort, moved to follow you despite your best efforts not to make eye contact. He was wearing an Army uniform with a few minor medals on his chest: they sometimes let soldiers who went above and beyond take a break from the front by putting them on war bond duty.
"You there, miss? Can spare something for the boys at the front?" He smiled, like he was trying to be charming. "Just a ten-yen bond! That's enough to run a motor-ambulance a day, to save dozens of lives!"
Ten yen you didn't have. Sure, you had some money, but it was money you needed to
live. Almost all of it was eaten by rent and what food wasn't grown in the garden, and the remainder… what if you got sick? Or needed to replace something vital?
Your father wasn't rich, but your family were well off--he pulled in a good amount from the store and was intensely frugal about personal spending. You remembered that he steadfastly refused to invest in most of the new devices he sold to others. "There's nothing wrong with the one we have," was his constant refrain. Even when there
was.
Instead, he invested his money in you and your brothers getting the best education he could afford--though Hideaki getting into the Academy was a godsend, since it meant he could afford to send both you and Junji to Tokei to attend school. He also refused to invest in the stock market much, nor did he trust his money in banks. All lessons you had learned from him, which meant that you made every sen count.
Which was all a factor in you simply pretending not to hear the man. This was a wonderful multipurpose strategy you employed with just about every man you weren't professionally obligated to interact with, even the ones
not trying to get your money, because it annoyed them terribly but gave you enough plausible deniability to simply breeze on by. You heard him speak up again, this time sounding a bit more aggravated. Let him be--if you tried to explain you couldn't afford it it'd just take up precious time in your day you really didn't want to waste on this man.
"Hey, Miss? Miss, can you hold up a- are you just going to ignore someone trying to help out his country?"
You looked beside you, like you figured he must be talking to somebody else. The secret was just buying enough time to get far enough away to not be worth bothering anymore. There was always the fear in the back of your mind he might try to grab your arm and force you to listen, but he wouldn't dare in a space this public, right?
You made it around the corner and through the doors. Safe. Time to get to class.
---
Your first class today was on dry chemistry, with your particular focus being the reactions useful for batteries and the processes involved in manufacture and use. All theory, of course, but the last minute burst of furious studies was already paying off, because everything in the lecture sounded vaguely familiar and your first project, a dense wall of related equation in need of solutions, didn't seem that daunting at all. Hell, you got one done when the professor went on an unrelated rant about patent wars in Europa over the nickle-cadmium battery and how he was
absolutely cheated out of hundreds of thousands of dollars etc etc. You'd learned to tune that stuff out.
You had two classes back to back, the second being an economics class that filled in credits and just seemed proper to have, and you shuffled out of your seat and through the halls, pushing past students without such pressing concerns. The two classes were, of course, in different buildings entirely, and you cut through a lesser-used hall so you could pick up to a jog and save some time. Classes had been cut back as the student body shrunk with the war, so you weren't expecting anyone.
You especially weren't expecting the guy who stepped around the corner as you jogged past, which sent both of you sprawling to the ground in a flutter of books and papers.
"Oh Spirits, sorry-" He began, but you were quit to cut him off, irritated you might now be late.
"Can't you watch where you're going?" You snapped, quickly scooping up your books and folders and stuffing them into your overloaded bag. Along the way, you found a pair of almost comically thick glasses, and you glanced over to see the man pawing uselessly at the ground trying to find them.
You winced. Maybe not the best comment to have made.
"Sorry, here." You said, handing him his glasses. You actually had to hold them quite near his face before he properly registered it and could take them, pushing them back on sheepishly.
"Sorry, are you okay?" He asked, blinking as he vision adjusted.
"I'm fine, just late for class," you replied. More irritation was seeping into your voice. Technically not yet late but if you had to stand here and be chatted up you might well be. You stuffed the last of your books into your bag and took off, though you glanced back to make sure he was okay. Looked like. Phew.
---
You finally got home, classes finished and brain completely drained, and dumped your bag out in your room. Only then did you notice an extra book, a thin booklet on orbital mechanics and the solar system, positively filled with math you presumed had to do with gravity. Apparently folks were hunting for an eleventh planet.
The name inside the cover was Hirayama Takuro, written in huge, careful characters.
You didn't have time for this, you had quotas to meet before you could study. You put the book aside and stepped out to work on some flashlights under the sun. Another girl had some helmets she was painting set up on posts nearby and was enthusiastically slathering grainy paint onto them, making you glad you'd changed into your comfortable and worn-down house kimono the moment you got home.
Curious, and not wanting to go back inside to get your hat as the sun climbed overhead, you placed one of the unpainted helmets on your head. With the padding inside it was actually fairly comfortable, if a bit heavy. You imagined you'd feel pretty safe in a trench with this protecting you.
"Hey! Private Kishimoto! There's a visitor for you!" You jumped, startled by Mai's voice and turned towards her, hurriedly removing the helmet from your head.
"At the door? For me? I'm not expecting anyone. Who is it?" You asked. Mai shrugged.
"Some older guy? He didn't say what he wanted." Your heart leaped into your throat. Was it your father? The only older man who would possibly come to your home was your father. Was something wrong? Mother sick? But why would he come all this way not not send a telegram? You set the helmet down and hurried into the house and into the front sitting room where the guest had no doubt been left to wait for you. You hurried inside and then skidded to a stop, feeling immensely confused. This man was… not your father.
He was dressed neatly in a Western business suit of expensive cut and material, something far too ostentatious for your father who preferred simple traditional clothes whenever possible. There had been a hat, gloves, and cane on the low table next to the front door where everyone left their mail. He had a
gold watch chain? And gold cufflinks? He had a full head of dark hair, graying at the temples. There was a monocle on a chain dangling from one lapel and he had high, aristocratic looking cheekbones. He would have been quite classically handsome in his youth, if you were any judge. Whoever this man was, he couldn't possibly be related to you. Your family was the furthest thing from aristocratic you could imagine.
Why did he look familiar?
"Ah, Miss Kishimoto?" The man said in a polite, refined voice that jolted you back to your senses. You'd been staring, hadn't you? You bowed hurriedly and he did the same, though in a much more stately manner.
"Yes, I'm Kishimoto Aiko. What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if perhaps you had an hour or two free. I imagine you're busy, but I was hoping you could spare some time? I'd like to get to know the woman my daughter is dating."
Oh
fuck.
He paused (you swore for dramatic effect), then offered another bow and a business card.
"Prince Arisukawa Tokiari, vice-minister for Internal Economic Development. I'm hoping you haven't already eaten?"
"No, sir." You said mechanically, still a little in shock. You clasped the business card tightly in both hands as if it were some sort of talisman, all the while screaming internally about the fact that you were wearing your rattiest house kimono.
"Wonderful! Come on, the car's waiting, I'll have you back in no time."
You wanted to say no, but what you said instead was-
"Yes, just let me get changed." Then you scampered back to your room, hunting for your nice clothes. There was a really nice dress that Haruna had gotten you somewhere (well, you'd mentioned it and she'd wired you the money for it like it wasn't a thing, you couldn't say
no and you told yourself it was really for
her to see you in… which she still hadn't…). Mai was sprawled out with a novel, having presumably returned to her reading after informing you of the visitor.
"Hey, who's lord fancy out there?" Mai asked. She must have stepped in. "Somebody's dad?"
You tossed the business card atop your books so you could get to the back of your stuff.
"My girlfriend's dad." you said as you struggled back into your slip and dress, then bent to look in the small mirror you shared with Mai to hurriedly apply some makeup. It wasn't up to the usual standard you liked when you went out with Haruna, but you were in a hurry, okay?
"Oh yeah, you mentioned she was some old family.
Lucky." Mai said, then she went back to her book.
You straightened a last few stray hairs, decided that this would have to be good enough (when you'd met her
mother you'd had a whole staff of maids to make you look presentable, which had been fucking weird) and headed back out to the front room with your handbag. Mister (No,
Lord, you could hear Haruna's mum correcting you in your head) Arisukawa was waiting, hat, gloves, and cane in hand. He smiled and offered you his arm.
"Ah, you look lovely. I can see why my daughter finds you so hard to let go of. Shall we?" He lead the way out through the front garden to the street where a
large, Akitsukunki blue car idled in the street. The chauffeur, who had been trying to shoo curious neighborhood kids away, hurriedly moved to open the passenger door for the two of you. You slipped inside, trying to act less flustered than you felt. You had to get your wits about you. You had a chance to talk to one of the most powerful men in the country, who was also your girlfriend's
dad. You had to be sharp and make a good impression, but beyond that, this could change your life.
Vote by plan. Choose which options Aiko will pursue. Her stats are currently +1 Activism, -1 Serenity (with a +2 bonus that will apply if used here), +3 Patriotism, -3 Free Time.
Failures will worsen the impression you leave. You can choose all four if you wish, but if you fail all four rolls then your relationship with Haruna's father will, correspondingly, be much worse.
[ ] See if you can find out where Haruna is posted, get an idea of the horrible conditions that made her turn to the bottle. (Roll +Patriotism)
[ ] See if you can convince him that maybe his daughter having a girlfriend from a commoner family isn't so bad (Roll +Activism)
[ ] Bring up how little you've ended up seeing Haruna, and how badly you wish she had a post closer to home. The man has serious pull, maybe he can do something. (Roll +Serenity)
[ ] Beyond leaving a good impression, try to impress him with your studies and knowledge. He'd be an incredible career contact. (Roll +Free Time)
-or-
[ ] Just try to have a pleasant dinner without pushing too much on anything (Roll nothing and have a perfectly nice meal, but no chance to improve your relationship with him or get extra perks out of the dinner).
