- Johnny Keats
- Jan 24, 2023
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Hi, I'm brand new to posting on these forums outside of mafia games, but I want to share this thing I've been working on. I think the forums are a good place to post it because there's interesting and nuanced stuff to comment on in the novel. But if it's a bad fit then you can just delete the thread.
Anyway, Matsuoka Keisuke is a highly successful author of political thriller/suspense in Japan. He is known for his long-running series (but still standalone. Think Sherlock Holmes) with well-researched plots. A more recent and popular example being "Universal Appraiser Q" which was basically the National Treasure movies but Japanese. The last one published was about Banksy lol. A bunch of his books have been adapted into shows or movies too, you may have heard of "Detective Versus Detectives".
The "High School Incident" series is published from 2019-present and has 17 books so far, but the first "season" was concluded after 12. Again, the novels are paced like standalone "episodes" and resolve the plot by the end, so I'm not *necessarily* committing to translate any further than one novel. Even though 2 is also really hype. I mean I've only read 5 of them, so I can only speak on so much, but the quality was certainly consistent for the first 5. It's a more crime and violence-oriented plot than the previous Appraiser series, and purports to shine a light on the "darkness" in Japan. As such it has some sensitive themes, which I find of especial interest coming from a Japanese work. Many of the political and social issues discussed are not often discussed in other Japanese media that we see. If you're interested in commentary about how topics like terrorism, violence, even stuff like "cancel culture" are addressed in Japan, you're in the right place.
I got interested in translating this while I was reading it for the first time, even, because Matsuoka's style is really neat to me. The way he is incredibly precise with his words and details. And his style of storytelling is just interesting and different. You need to see it for yourself, I mean that's why I'm doing this, I want to share the experience. And to motivate myself to work on it consistently. So tell me if you like it!
There is a manga adaptation covering the events of this novel, but I personally don't like it (It's also not very much translated). In fact, neither of the chapters I post today are included in the manga, because it skips to chapter 3. So there's that. I do "get" why they did that, these first two chapters could maybe be described as incredibly dry. But it is still essential and interesting, they just didn't trust their audience not to fall asleep at the politics!
There is a lot of name-dropping of locations in this series, but if all the Japanese names intimidate you then you can safely ignore it. The plethora of details is probably there to conceal which of them might be important. If you are interested in the research though, know that this author has an attention for detail. Maybe it could lead somewhere. 
Last thing: I don't want to get bogged down in making the writing perfect, because the style is 90% plot-oriented anyway, so it may sometimes be sloppy. Like when I use colons for dialogue attributions, or put ages in parentheses. I hope that's acceptable.
Here is chapter 1. I'll post 2 later today if this is not deemed an inappropriate thread for this forum. Please let me know what you think, or how I could improve this!
quote:1
The Prime Minister of Japan had one final task on his agenda: just past midnight, as scheduled, he would call his personal secretary on the phone. They would exchange brief pleasantries, then hang up. That way, his secretary on location at the official government offices could inform the press that he had retired for the evening. This was how the Prime Minister’s bustling day came to an end, without fail.
At the age of 64, Prime Minister Yahata Kazuo spent each night at his private home in Shoutou, Shibuya. This to the exasperation of his coworkers, who would often suggest that staying in the official residence designated for him would eliminate the issue of his commute. But Yahata simply did not like the official residence. He would constantly fret that a visitor might arrive, and restful sleep would be impossible. When that happened, he’d be stuck powering through the day in a drowsy haze.
As much as the Cabinet Office made a point of emphasizing the Prime Minister’s hard work in the media, in truth he had plenty of time for sleep. Even when the National Diet was in session and mornings were early, he didn’t leave for work until eight o’clock. And when the Diet was in recess, such as today, he could take his time and leave as late as nine thirty. Thus, he was able to eat breakfast with his wife Misaki (55), and view the NHK morning news in its entirety. Once he appeared on screen, they would watch silently without conversation. Even after the reporting turned to non-political affairs, they still didn’t speak a word to each other. The childless home had always had this atmosphere. Ever since their younger days they’d lived the quiet life of an elderly couple. This had shown no sign of change after he’d become Prime Minister.
Yahata stood in front of a mirror and straightened himself out. He was wearing a tailored suit from Eikokuya Ginza with a necktie Misaki had picked out. Despite the incessant flattery that he looked no older than fifty, Yahata was vividly aware of his own age. On television it was no worry, but with the naked eye white strands at his hairline were clearly noticeable.
Soon it’d be the age of 8K definition, so he’d need to start dying his hair more diligently. He recalled those words of caution a stylist had told him at the salon Misaki had recommended. At the time, he’d written it off as overzealous salesmanship, but perhaps it had been pertinent advice after all.
Yahata bid farewell to his wife and the housekeeper, then left out the front door as he always did. The softly-lit view from his doorstep was gentle on the eyes. Tender autumn sunshine blanketed the housing district in a thin coat of orange. Pale shadows fell on the asphalt, light and darkness nigh indistinguishable from one another. The shiny black vehicle that normally awaited him had been upgraded from a Century to a Lexus LS. He looked at his security officers, whom he knew well, and deliberately said nothing. Even in this extremely peaceful neighborhood, he would be remiss to distract his guards from their duty. The driver opened the rear door, then stood aside humbly as Yahata got in.
The man in the passenger seat turned around to face him. Bespectacled and slender-faced, parliamentary secretary Ikezaki Yoshio (38) greeted Yahata professionally. “Good morning, Sir.”
“Good morning,” Yahata replied. “Today’s schedule?”
“A cabinet meeting at 10:04,” Ikezaki said, holding a notepad in one hand. “At 10:26 you have a meeting with the advisory committee pertaining to the implementation of labor reform. At 11:34 we’ll be driving to the Parliamentary Museum for a tour of the new exhibit. At 12:05 you have a private meeting with the president of the National Governors Association. Then, starting at 1:33, you’ll meet with candidates for the upcoming election and give them your official designation of approval. And at 2:32 the People’s Honor Award presentation ceremony will begin. A draft of your speech has been prepared, of course.”
A gloomy sensation spread like a fog within Yahata’s chest. He mumbled to himself. “Maybe I should’ve given the award to Tashiro Yuuji after all.”
“This was a decision reached after countless deliberations,” Ikezaki said, placing a finger on the brow of his glasses. “You mustn’t let the reporters’ questions reveal any hesitation in you.”
He’s right. Yahata nodded and sighed.
Tashiro Yuuji was a 2nd-year high school student and naturalized Japanese citizen. His name from birth in Vietnam was Nguyen Van Triet. Normally, naturalization would not be granted to a minor, but because he’d been living with both parents in Japan, he was naturalized with the rest of the family.
The boy’s naturalization had ended up being in Japan’s national interest as well. This wasn’t known until afterward, but Triet had been a badminton prodigy. At his current school, Musashi-Kosugi High, there is no doubt that he single-handedly carried the badminton team to first place at the Interscholastic Athletic Meet. As such, there was even some speculation that he might participate in the Tokyo Olympics next year.
As the Japanese name Tashiro Yuuji began circulating in the press, talks soon also turned favorably toward the impressive open-mindedness of the high school which had accepted him. In an age where many prestigious schools would shy away from accepting a student naturalized from Vietnam, this was seen as a monumental display of upholding civil rights. Thanks to which, they’d obtained a valuable gem of untapped potential. The media had overwhelmingly praised the school administration’s decision.
Once news stations had started showcasing the boy’s charming, kind demeanor and good looks, Tashiro Yuuji’s popularity had skyrocketed. As often occurs with viral topics, the public was swept into a fervor, and in their delirious state extreme opinions took precedence over common sense. A very small fraction of voices had even started announcing that Tashiro Yuuji should be given the People’s Honor Award. It was true that the decision of whom to grant the award was at the sole discretion of the Prime Minister, and therefore eligibility requirements were not a concern. Nevertheless, Yahata had naturally paid these comments no heed, viewing them as premature. Merely winning the championship at a high school athletic meet wasn’t enough to warrant the distinction.
However, certain government officials had made their own independent predictions, which had then appeared in newspapers and caused criticism to be sent his way. It was reported that Musashi-Kosugi High’s deviation ranking was only fifty-two, and that the female students were known for their excessive use of makeup and accessorizing. These facts were theorized to have influenced the prime minister’s decision, according to comments from Diet Members.
All of a sudden, the public was rallying against it. Yahata himself hadn’t graduated from anywhere prestigious like Tokyo University, simply advancing through his school’s escalator system. So while they weren’t wrong about his lack of experience with the harsh competition of exam season, bringing the school’s ranking into the discussion was absurd. He had believed this opinion to be merely a vocal minority, but to his surprise, a shocking number of officials from both sides of the party line had begun uniting against him on this front.
Yahata saw that they were already driving along a main road. He gazed at the morning congestion and grumbled to himself. “No matter what I do, they’ll find some fault with it.”
“You’re an easy target. After you extended the term limit from two to three, winning for a third time was the worst case scenario for those looking to back other candidates.”
“I'm grateful to live in a country where the crime rate is so low. I’m even permitted to commute from home without fear.”
Yahata and Ikezaki shared a laugh. That sort of questionable statement would get him crucified in an instant. They could only crack such jokes within the confines of this car.
Speaking of which, it has been widely reported by reputable sources that the prime minister’s personal vehicle is equipped with bulletproof glass. While this is true, Yahata had been informed that the car would put up little resistance if struck by a missile. In the first place, bulletproof glass merely disperses the shock of impact across a plastic film. It could reliably intercept a handful of small caliber rounds, but not much else. Every world leader understands this fact, though none, understandably, says it aloud. The only other part of the car that would qualify as specialized equipment was a blue LED emergency light.
Rather than take the expressway directly to the offices, they were using local roads. Unfortunately, there was no hijacking the traffic lights to make them green or anything of the sort. Those measures were only used in emergencies. They took a different route every morning, but no amount of intricate planning could beat the morning rush. They even obeyed the speed limit. Still, they somehow made the full trip every morning in under fifteen minutes, never failing to arrive at the scheduled time.
Five floors above ground and one below, constructed out of steel-reinforced concrete. The design was quite elegant, with an emphasis on glass paneling, though after seeing it so many times Yahata felt nothing novel in it anymore. Built on sloping land, the main entrance on the eastern side led to the third floor. Thanks to that, Yahata was able to walk comfortably to work without having to pass by the press club in the lobby. Of course, there were plenty of reporters crowded inside the third floor entryway as well, but this was preferable to trekking across their central den of operations.
Yahata proceeded up the stairway to the fourth floor as normal. The only time he would ever head downstairs is when they take the commemorative cabinet photo at the start of each term. The ministers assemble in the fourth floor hall for regularly scheduled cabinet meetings every Tuesday and Friday. Today was Tuesday.
If the Diet were in session, then they’d use a room inside the National Diet Building specifically meant for cabinet meetings. In those instances, they’d all sit on the couches in the lobby and wait to have their picture taken by the press. On news channels, this would be presented as a view of the cabinet meeting itself. But the reality was different. Actual cabinet meetings were closed off to the public. And the same held true in these offices. Once they’d successfully shut out all representatives of the media, they gathered themselves around the large round table in the center of the room.
The only people in attendance besides the ministers were the three Deputy Chief Cabinet Secretaries, and the director of the Cabinet Legislation Bureau. Seated at a rectangular table separated from the large round one, they would read off various legislation and other items on the agenda one by one. Since these were almost exclusively issues that had been previously discussed at length, no objections were ever raised. Then the cabinet ministers would all sign some documents. Such were the events of a regularly scheduled cabinet meeting, nothing more and nothing less.
After leaving the meeting room, Yahata dispassionately went through the motions of his duties. Not even lunch offered a reprieve, as he needed to meet with the president of the National Governors Association while eating. In the afternoon the American Deputy Secretary of State paid him a visit. Then he met with the president of the Bank of Japan to discuss the monthly economic report, among other things. This meeting lasted until just past five.
When he finally returned to his personal office, Yahata found awaiting him the Minister of Education, Science, and Culture --- Usui Shouji, who was currently in discussion with Yahata’s six secretaries.
At 54, Usui appeared quite young in Yahata’s eyes. Of course his black hair was dyed too, but in terms of volume Usui’s was far superior. His skin was more youthful as well. For a man so up-in-arms about the declining health of educators due to overworking, the minister himself seemed fit as a fiddle.
The atmosphere in the room was much more amicable than a standard conference, and Minister Usui spoke to Yahata in a friendly tone. “Remember how you appeared in a Mario costume at the Rio Olympics opening ceremony? We are quite lucky that you received Nintendo’s permission beforehand. Otherwise, those shady Chinese dealerships in Shibuya would have an excuse to rent their Mario Kart lookalikes without fear of legal action.”
Yahata was at a loss for words. This again? The international media had eaten it up, but in Japan the stunt had been widely mocked. His trusted circle of former prime ministers and government officials had seemed enthusiastic about the idea, so he’d agreed to it without much thought. But the embarrassment haunted him to this day.
The secretaries in the room chuckled playfully. Ikezaki spoke in agreement with Usui: “Lately, they’ve been painting huge letters on the sides that say NOT AFFILIATED WITH NINTENDO.”
Even Iioka Tetsuji (51), the stern-faced member of the National Police Agency, had to grin at the irony. “Of course, that only makes legal action trickier to pursue.”
Yahata didn’t want to spend any more time on the subject. He sat himself in an armchair and said, “If this is about the Tokyo Olympics, I’d think your department has more pertinent concerns, Minister. Offering access to advanced classes and course credits to volunteering students... People are saying that’s too far.”
Usui became stone-faced. “My apologies. I’m not here about the Tokyo Olympics. Our present concern is the lack of basic academic skills in our youth, and a decline in their passion for learning.”
“So kids aren’t studying... That didn’t start with me.”
“Public schools being the most notably affected. We’ve found that on weekdays, less than half of high school seniors spend any time on study outside of class. We’ve even fallen below international standards.”
“Surely you don’t mean to suggest that my performance at the Rio Olympics has a connection to kids’ interest in video games?”
“No. That being said, we thought you might be interested in taking the initiative to advocate for the importance of education.”
Secretary Tatsuyama Shigeki, a 45 year old man of timid disposition from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, spoke with a dubious look on his face. “Is our education so sub-standard? According to the OECD’s PISA exam, Japanese students rank at the top worldwide. And the percentage of students in lower brackets is decreasing.”
Usui shook his head. “That test is aimed at 15 year olds who have only finished compulsory education. Our problem is after they proceed to high school.”
The only female secretary in the room was Hoshino Toshiko, 43 years old, from the Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry. Toshiko spoke to the Prime Minister: “The idea has merit. We understand that around the time of the Olympics, it was put forward as a necessity to emphasize the appeal of the Japanese video game and anime industries to foreign nations. Perhaps a balancing of the scales is now in order. We don’t want to give our nation’s youth the misconception that we approve of play.”
Kuramatsu Naoki, mustachioed 55 year old member of the Ministry of Finance, nodded as well. “Agreed. It would be well within our interest for you to stress the necessity of study to today’s high school students, I think.”
Usui leaned forward. “Precisely. A Shouka Sonjuku for the modern age.”
Yoshida Shouin? A name sure to touch Yahata’s emotions, having grown up in Yamaguchi prefecture. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel put on the spot. Yahata replied quietly. “My wife and I never had kids. My nephew has been a working adult for a very long time. I don’t have a clue what high school kids are like these days.”
Ikezaki replied: “What if we used that to our advantage? You could visit a high school in person to observe and interact with the students and teachers there. Even a cursory appeal to study would earn the support of parents too.”
Usui’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea. Instead of a well-renowned school, an exceedingly commonplace public high school would work even better.”
Within the animated group of secretaries, silver-haired, tan-skinned former member of the Ministry of Defense --- Takemoto Ryouji (56), stood apart. He alone wore a dark expression, and said: “Minister Usui. You say a commonplace high school, but I would rather take more care in making the proper choice. From a crisis management perspective, I cannot recommend that the Prime Minister travel far for this.”
Yahata said the first thing that came to his mind. “Musashi-Kosugi High. How’s that?”
He scanned the room. His secretaries were looking at each other’s faces.
Usui flashed white teeth. “Excellent! Isn’t that the public school attended by badminton prodigy Tashiro Yuuji?”
Ikezaki nodded with a humble expression. “The school has gotten positive attention, and visiting may also soften the blowback from overlooking him for the People’s Honor Award.”
Tatsuyama turned to Ikezaki. “Won’t that be criticized as obviously his intention?”
“Those criticisms will be made regardless.” Ikezaki laughed with his nose. “We can overwhelm them with sheer newsworthiness. In terms of what’s reported, it would only be footage of the visit aired on the news, but a face-to-face with Tashiro Yuuji the badminton prodigy is sure to make waves.”
Takemoto from the Ministry of Defense’s expression became even more severe. “That’s the school that accepted a boy naturalized from a socialist nation?”
Ikezaki sighed deeply. “Our country is their number one ODA contributor.”
“Of course. Vietnam is not regarded as a threat. And Musashi-Kosugi High is regarded highly for its dedication to civil rights. However, due to being such a high-profile school, it can also be seen as a more likely target for extremist groups.”
Iioka from the National Police Agency expressed agreement. “You’re saying we shouldn’t announce the visit beforehand, and leave out the media as well?”
Ikezaki looked flustered. “That defeats the purpose of earning widespread attention. How about we narrow down the media presence to ten people, give or take?”
“No.” Iioka looked at Ikezaki. “The information would leak on TV or the newspapers. It’s not just a matter of trusting people to maintain silence. Anyone paying attention to the activity of those press members could easily guess what’s going on. We need to follow the blueprint of a sudden, unexpected visit established at Gonpachi in 2002.”
“Gonpachi,” Ikezaki murmured. “The izakaya in Nishi-Azabu.”
“The Prime Minister at the time, Koizumi Jun’ichirou, had dinner there with President Bush. Not even the restaurant staff knew until it was announced just beforehand. In truth, the upper management must have been involved in some planning, but that should be fine for us too.”
Yahata turned to Iioka. “Back then, the image of the two dining together appeared on the news though, right?”
“Yes, they brought a press corps with them. We’ll do it differently. The media won’t be involved until the entire school visit is over. The news stations and papers will just interview students and teachers after the fact.”
“So footage of the visit won’t be broadcast on television?”
Ikezaki seemed like he had come to an understanding. “Prime Minister. Upon consideration I do believe this would more effective. Of course, it also means we will need to focus on increasing your general likability.”
“Not even the image of me and Tashiro together?”
“We can send pictures of the two of you chatting to the various news stations. But the lack of additional details will really stress that this isn’t a stunt for the media. We’ll have the Chief Cabinet Secretary announce that you kept it private in order to earnestly observe the place of learning to your fullest. The news stations will probably be riled up in dissatisfaction, but your public perception will run the opposite way.”
Footage of him with a high-profile naturalized youth... a waste to limit the moment to a photo or two. But there were advantages. Leaving reporters by the wayside meant he could avoid getting worn down by worrying he might make a small mistake in his words.
A Shouka Sonjuku for the modern age... not a bad thing to call oneself. It had been a long time since a great plan had come to him like this. In preparation for the Tokyo Olympics next year, it was time to start working hard on earning points with the nation. Plus, even if only a little bit, this could be used to better sell the idea of constructing a high-speed rail to Vietnam.
Yahata asked: “My physical’s coming up soon?”
“Yes,” Ikezaki replied. “It’s mandatory for all of us. We could plan this for shortly after. Shall I amend your arrangements to attend the premiere of that Western film?”
“No. I love American big-budget films,” Yahata answered with a smile. “Please make it work with my schedule right away. The sooner I do this high school visit, the better.”
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Nov 14, 2023 23:34
