September 18, 1931
To Feel Something
He hated the stench of cities. The way people clung together, stuck in groups, causing traffic and making everything smell much like... well, a city.
All in all, he wasn't a people person. He preferred a quiet room with room to think and write. Calligraphy was his passion, the way the words formed so eloquently on the page gave him more joy than the prospect of war.
The scent of cherry blossoms floated in through the window, giving off the signs of approaching spring. He closed it.
A knock on the door.
"Come in," he said quietly.
"Mr. Honda, we're going to need you to sign off this before we send off the soldiers."
Nodding, he took the pen and signed them all with that signature he had practiced.
People on the streets could be heard whispering rumours of the mysterious Honda Kiku. He lived alone in a giant house, rarely leaving it, but he was in charge of all war affairs. In fact, he was responsible for the entire country, but the commoners didn't need to know about that.
The rumours were true, mostly. Kiku was a mysterious man. Even his closet companions knew barely anything of his personal life. He had no family he spoke of, no lover, no children, not even a pet. The house was completely his, and he planned to keep it that way.
In Kiku's mind, he didn't see the need for power. The way he lived was comfortable enough. Unfortunately, when you are playing the game of government, you need to stay on top, and having more land means more power. It was a game of inheritance and cards. Some people drew the short straw. Luckily, Japan didn't. Therefore, it was faced with the expectation to stay on top of the game.
At least, that was his reasoning for the invasion. Somewhere in the back of his skull, Kiku knew this plan could go horribly wrong. Not with the government, but the way the other countries would react. They weren't exactly on good terms. Not because he was rude or mean, but because he was indifferent to everything other than what involved himself.
Power wasn't the first thing on his mind, but more couldn't be bad, could it?
"Mr. Honda, we need you to initiate the attack now."
Initiate the attack. Only those three words could send that shiver of delight down his spine. Something about making the first move in the game was positively thrilling. Being the one to pick the fight, good results or bad, was a high that couldn't be replaced.
"Are we in? Over," said a soldier, unknown to Kiku, over his handheld radio. The crackly signal broadcast over the whole military base was the best sound ever.
"In. Over," he replied clearly in a loud, firm voice.
"Operation go? Over."
"Go. Over."
The radio clicked off. Now all they had to do was sit back and wait.
The hours sitting and waiting were long. Someone would check in every now and then, update when they needed a change of battle plans, but ultimately, the Manchuria area was theirs.
Being the bully for once was amazing. After all of the shit Kiku had taken after having it thrown at him, he could throw it back for once. He could organize to burn them alive. Burn their families in front of them.
The quiet ones always have the most to say, don't they? After years of sitting silent, he could let his actions speak mounds for him. The message? He was ready for this war. No longer was he going to sit back and let them run the show. Kiku was ready. No, Japan was ready.
