『MV:INEBCEBTH』Arc-1 Ch-6

There are no photos of my parents anywhere in my house. After the great scandal involving collusion with the Eastern Bloc, their very existence was erased from official memory.

 My father’s name was Keika-in Otomaro.

Just from the name alone, you could tell—he wasn’t the heir.

Even so, his blue blood was useful, and so, apparently, he was treated favorably within the family. Perhaps those pent-up frustrations—the humiliation of being an extra branch in a great house—drove him to seek success in the world of business.

He joined the Far Eastern Group, and in time, became involved in its management.

“He was a man who rode the tides of the era.

That’s why, when the era turned its back on him… it was truly pitiful.”

Tachibana, who had known my father personally, spoke those words with a sorrowful expression.

It all began just before the bubble era.

The connection between my father and Far Eastern Bank, a local bank in Yamagata Prefecture, started through the financing that bank provided to Far Eastern Land Development, a company my father himself had established.

At the time, Far Eastern East Bank was merely a regional institution. Out of fear of being swallowed up by larger banks, it aimed to expand its reach. Meanwhile, my ambitious father sought capital from the northern regions the Keika-in family had all but abandoned—using his noble lineage as a shining signboard.

By the way, as for the Keika-in family’s enterprises, there was a Keika-in Pharmaceuticals factory in Kyushu that dealt in camphor, and Keika-in Chemical Industry factories in Okayama Prefecture’s Mizushima and Mie Prefecture’s Yokkaichi.

Later, riding the wave of the economic bubble, the Far Eastern Group expanded aggressively—establishing Far Eastern Hotel as its core business and building hotels across the country. They were just about to begin full-scale resort development when the Eastern Collusion Scandal erupted.

 “What exactly did he do?”

“...COCOM violations.”

I froze.

It was something far more dangerous than I had imagined. The plan had been to build a petrochemical complex at Sakata Port, which had shipping routes to the Eastern Bloc.

Keika-in Chemical Industry was to build a factory on land developed by Far Eastern Land Development, importing petroleum and natural gas from the East to produce and sell domestically.

However—during construction, it was discovered that numerous machine tools and heavy equipment had been smuggled into the Democratic People’s Republic of North Japan, on the Eastern side.

Once investigated, the matter exploded into a major scandal: large portions of the Far Eastern Group were found to have been infiltrated by Eastern intelligence agents. Although no criminal charges were ultimately brought due to “immunity from arrest,” in the end, my father committed suicide.

The Far Eastern Group was absorbed into the Keika-in conglomerate and erased from history—

leaving behind a mountain of non-performing loans from the bubble’s collapse. Which means, of course—I can’t appear in high society. Normally, anyway.

And yet, in the game, I was there— boldly flaunting power as the villainess.

What happened to me?

No.

What did I mess up?

“Tachibana. This time… please tell me about Mother.”

We were now riding a taxi toward a cemetery in Sakata, overlooking the Sea of Japan. My parents’ graves were there.

My mother—who, in her final moments, had asked to rest in a place where she could see her homeland across the sea—and my father—who had bitterly declared, “I refuse to be buried in the Keika-in family grave.”

Both lay here together.

“Borrowing your father’s words…she was ‘a person like spring,’ I believe.”

My mother’s name was Natasha Alexandrovna Romanova. She was said to be a descendant of the Romanov family, which even now retained influence in Russia—though whether that was truly the case, no one knows anymore.

The honey trap had been laid by the National Security Agency of the Democratic People’s Republic of North Japan, the intelligence organization that governed Sakhalin.

According to information disclosed after national unification in recent years, the goal had been to strike a political blow against my grandfather—

Duke Keika-in Hikojiro, a powerful right-wing figure.

Because the North Japan government not only maintained superiority over our nation—which still retained the Imperial Family—but also protected Romanov descendants as a political card against their Soviet allies, it might very well have been true.

However, after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Communist Party, National Security Agency, and military factions all turned against each other,

leading to internal chaos and eventual collapse. It was our country’s intervention that brought unification. The world truly is unpredictable.

But I digress.

Since my paternal grandmother was also of Russian noble descent—and from the Romanov family at that—it seems I can, at least broadly, claim Romanov blood myself. My mother’s great-grandfather was said to be Emperor Alexander III of Russia.

The Emperor had once fallen in love with a woman—Maria Yevfimovna Meshcherskaya—

but due to imperial obligations, he was forced to marry another. When Maria withdrew from his life, she was already carrying his child. It’s a familiar story among nobles, isn’t it?

And so, through the Russian Revolution and the chaos of World War II, my mother’s fallen noble family was used by the Eastern bloc to ensnare my father in their honey trap.

Thus, my hair—this unmistakable, radiant blonde.

 “We’ve arrived, young lady.”

“It’s cold!”

Even if three-quarters of my body’s blood was Slavic, my soul and lifestyle were undeniably Japanese—and Yamagata, this time of year, was freezing. The bouquet I carried was made of white lilies, my mother’s favorite flowers.

Her grave bore a cross, while my father’s had a Buddhist gravestone— a strange sight, but somehow fitting. I prayed they were both happy in the afterlife.

I laid the lilies on my mother’s grave, while Tachibana placed chrysanthemums on my father’s. Then, together, we pressed our palms together in prayer.

Even if our roots were mixed, we called ourselves Japanese—so, naturally, we prayed and chanted sutras.

 “Namu Amida Bu, Namu Amida Bu.

Father, Mother, are you well?

Thanks to Tachibana, Keiko-san, Aki-san, and Naomi-san,I’m living healthily.

I’m a kindergartener now.”

It’s strange. They’re parents I’ve never truly known, and yet—my voice trembles, and tears overflow.

“I probably won’t be joining you there anytime soon, but I’ll come visit when I can.

Well then—until next time.”

When I stood up, Tachibana silently handed me a handkerchief. I wiped away my tears with it.

Were these my true feelings?

Or were they the tears of the real Keika-in Runa’s heart, echoing through me?

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FootNotes

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The foundation of the Far Eastern Group

 is set in Yamagata Prefecture. Niigata might have been more convenient geographically,

but that would’ve risked entanglement with Tanaka Kakuei in his prime—a bit too dangerous.

And so, I chose Yamagata for this backstory.

COCOM Violation

Official name: Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export Controls.

The Toshiba–COCOM incident is the most famous example.

Father and Mother’s names confirmed.

Mother’s great-grandfather set as Emperor Alexander III.

The romance with Maria Yevfimovna Meshcherskaya was too perfect not to use—

so I built the entire fabrication from there.