Re: Blood and Iron

Frost fell over Gangwon Province as the Imperial Japanese Army dug deep into their fortifications. Their thick woolen cloaks, lined with hare fur, kept them warm during the winter months.

The Russian advance had, in many ways, been halted at what was considered the 38th Parallel during Bruno’s past life.

Not because the Japanese had stopped their momentum, but because logistics were king. And this far south, the Imperial Russian Army would not advance beyond its supply lines.

They had spent the last few months preparing for an all-out assault on southern Chōsen, while the Imperial Japanese Army kept their distance, watching the horizon.

Men like those here today spent their days behind concrete bunkers and earthen trench networks.

Heavy machine guns, anti-tank rifles, anti-tank mines, and rifle grenade launchers sat across the sandbags, mounted into position in a desperate attempt to stop the Russian armor in its tracks when the push finally came.

However, the effectiveness, or lack thereof, that these weapons had been proven throughout the war.

Ultimately, it was the anti-tank guns of considerable size, like the 57mm variants, that proved most effective in dealing with Russian armor.

Meanwhile, the fortifications were littered with anti-aircraft weaponry, whether they came in the form of smaller automatic cannons or large-bore flak guns.

The line of defense had been constructed in a desperate attempt to deny Russian aerial supremacy over the region.

There was just one problem with this mentality: the Japanese had pushed everything they had to the front lines, leaving the South Pacific theater vulnerable.

Now they were scrambling to move some of the equipment back to defend against the German island-hopping command, which threatened the Japanese mainland.

An enlisted soldier, no older than twenty, smoked in silence as he watched a logistics officer barking commands, scrambling to relocate all of the previously listed equipment.

With the death of the previous emperor, the Empire of Japan entered a state of controlled chaos.

Different departments fought for control in the aftermath, and nobody knew whose orders to follow, as they often came from conflicting commanding officers.

It was all so tiresome. Because of this, the enlisted soldier looked away, not wanting to see what came next.

But even as he ignored it, the dispute continued, escalating with each slur cast and each prodding of the chest, until finally, the officer unsheathed his sword and raised it, screaming as he was about to swing the felling blow upon the NCO he was arguing with.

That is, until the loud crackle of a gunshot startled every soldier in the area. Some of them dropped behind the sandbags, perhaps thinking a Russian sniper had fired in their vicinity.

But when they looked around, they found that the NCO had drawn his pistol and fired it into the logistics officer’s skull, smoking a cigarette in one hand as he did so.

There was not the slightest trace of emotion on his face as he barked commands to the unit at large.

“Nobody touches our guns… Now somebody clean this shit up.”

There was no malevolence in his words, despite having just shot an officer dead; only fatigue.

Had the Empire of Japan and its Imperial Army been in a normal state, this act would have had the NCO lined up in front of a firing squad.

But it was never reported up the chain of command; because nobody cared to do so.

And even if it had been, with Tokyo currently in disarray over who was in charge of the new order, there were greater priorities than a single dead logistics officer in Chōsen.

—

Months had passed by the time Sakura managed to arrive at the ports in the Reich.

Considering the active state of war against the Empire of Japan, her diplomatic passport was met with some scrutiny at the port of entry.

She was sequestered, and an interpreter was brought in to speak with her. Throughout it all, she remained silent and graceful, not showing the slightest sign of anxiety.

Rather, understanding that her journey across the sea, and the task she had been granted would likely end in failure. And in all reality, she was unlikely to ever come across Bruno face-to-face.

It took quite some time, what felt like hours, before an officer of the German Reich’s Internal Security Bureau entered the private room she was held in and sat in front of her.

A cup of coffee was in his hand as he looked over a folder that contained all manner of intelligence about the woman: her identity, her background, and the current state of affairs in the Empire of Japan.

Only after he had become acquainted with the situation in its entirety did he finally deign it necessary to speak. Though his words were kind, his tone was anything but.

“Princess Sakura, I wish I could say it was an honor to host you in our great country, but unfortunately these are troubled times, and our two nations are at war. Considering we received no advanced notice of your arrival, I would appreciate it if you would show some understanding toward our position and not blame us for being thorough in reviewing your case before allowing you entry into our borders.”

The interpreter who stood by the investigator’s side conveyed his words in flawless Japanese. Sakura simply nodded once and spoke curtly.

“I understand.”

Seeing how the woman was being so compliant and not making a substantial fuss, the investigator continued.

“From what you’ve told the border security agents, you have come in an attempt to negotiate an end to the war on behalf of Emperor Yoshihito. However, I’m afraid I must be the bearer of bad news. The Emperor is dead; having passed away sometime near your departure from Tokyo. Naturally, as you’ll understand, this makes the situation more suspicious from our perspective.”

Sakura remained quiet. She could tell by the interpreter’s phrasing and tone that he had already figured out she was very much aware of this fact.

The investigator continued.

“Seeing as how your relative, Crown Prince Hirohito, was killed in the aftermath of the Emperor’s death and the disputes among your leadership, I’m assuming you came here seeking asylum as a political refugee. But for the life of me, I can’t understand why you didn’t express this intent upon reaching our borders; or why you didn’t bring your family.”

While the tone of the investigator was accusatory, implying that his supposed assumption was a trick to get her to reveal her true hand, his expression softened as he saw Sakura’s reaction.

She had carried the posture of someone in mourning when she arrived, but at the mention of Hirohito’s death, shock overcame her face. Denial set in, and she shook her head hysterically.

“No… that’s… that’s not possible!”

The investigator closed his folder, perhaps trying to conceal the disturbing evidence on the next page to spare the woman some additional grief, and responded in a gentler tone.

“You didn’t know? I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to cause you more distress than you’ve already suffered. But I’m afraid it’s true. Yasuhito has been named Emperor after the burial of the man they are now calling Taisho.”

When the reality of the situation finally hit her, Sakura broke into tears. Both the interrogator and interpreter remained silent and solemn, giving her a moment to mourn.

Between her sobs, she let something slip that she had been trying her best not to reveal.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness… I won’t be able to fulfill your dying wish.”

The interrogator, sensing the importance of the statement, handed her a handkerchief.

“Dying wish? The Emperor Taisho sent you here for such a reason?”

With the cat out of the bag, Sakura had no choice but to reveal her full hand. But in truth, she no longer cared. She was too distraught to continue concealing her mission.

“Yes. He wanted me to come to Germany and plead with Bruno to end the war in a way that preserved our nation and didn’t destroy it. I’m not sure why he tasked me with this, but those were his last words. He never wanted the war to happen. The attack on your vessels was conducted without his knowledge. He feared that with his passing, the generals and admirals who started it would try to fight to the last man… to honor him in their own sick way.”

The interrogator wrote down her words before clarifying a final point.

“When you say Bruno, you mean His Royal Majesty, Generalfeldmarschall Bruno von Zehntner — the Grand Prince of Tyrol?”

Sakura wiped her eyes and nodded.

“Yes, he’s the one. Although when I knew him, he was just a simple colonel in your army. But that was a lifetime ago.”

A few words were exchanged between the interrogator and his interpreter. Then the investigator closed his notebook, gathered his documents, and stood.

“Your Highness, I’ll have someone come take care of you while I arrange your transport to Berlin. His Royal Majesty is currently staying there for the war effort and will be alerted to your arrival immediately. I do hope you can find some solace before then. And I apologize for causing you further distress.”

The interrogator performed a deep, genuine bow before exiting. The interpreter followed. Sakura remained alone in her grief.

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