[Feature-length] RAFT - Blue Paradox Episode 2

Episode 2: The City for Sale, The Souls for Purchase

Saturday, November 1, 2025.

The Tokyo sky was once again cruelly clear and blue. In the Marunouchi office district, Toru was at work despite it being a Saturday. The lunch-time diner was wrapped in a heavier atmosphere than usual. "...Ah, I'm sorry. Since it's starting from today, it'll be 1,380 yen." The elderly owner bowed apologetically. It was a mackerel miso set meal that had been 1,200 yen until yesterday. A 15 percent consumption tax. The massive tax hike that the Renjo administration had forced through, branding it a "leap toward a Nordic-style high-welfare state," had begun today. On the wall-mounted TV next to the register, a morning show commentator was smiling with white teeth, saying, "This will enrich childcare support! It's an investment in the future!" Toru Himuro held up his smartphone with an expressionless face, and the payment sound rang out. Investment in the future? Don't lie to me. Much of that tax increase would vanish into the construction of "boxes" called "Multicultural Coexistence Centers" popping up all over the country, and the personnel costs for the NPO staff who would parachute into them. Toru knew the figures for those PR budgets better than anyone. When he left the shop, a cold building wind blew. The backs of the salarymen passing by seemed a little more hunched than yesterday. The exploitation called "warmth" was quietly, but surely, draining the vitality of this country.

At 3:00 PM, a new project file arrived on Toru's terminal back at his desk at Teito Agency. Client: Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, Japan Tourism Agency. Project Name: "Inbound Investment Promotion Campaign ~Border-less Kyoto~". It was a project Toru was in charge of. The proposed catchphrases were lined with words he had written himself. "Let's open up the ancient capital. Let's mingle with the world." "Welcome to a Kyoto without regulations." A dark, murky feeling swirled deep in Toru's chest as he stared at the screen. --What am I selling? Just then, his smartphone vibrated. The word "Mom" appeared on the screen. Toru stood up and went to the landing of the emergency stairs. When he closed the heavy iron door, the hustle and bustle of the city faded away. "Hello, Mom?" "Toru? Sorry to call while you're working... You see, there's something I want you to hear." His mother's voice, usually bright, was dampened. "Construction started in earnest today on the vacant house next door. Then, a bulldozer suddenly came in... and they destroyed all the old Jizo statues that were in the garden." Toru's fingers dug into the cold handrail. "...What?" "Your father rushed in to stop them, but a foreign person who looked like the site supervisor told him, 'This is our land now, Japanese law has nothing to do with it,' and he was turned away." His mother's voice was trembling. "They're building a bright red, high wall right now. Your father is drinking shochu looking so frustrated... and Baron is scared, he won't come out from under the porch. It's scary. If things go on like this, Kyoto won't be Kyoto anymore."

Even after the call ended, Toru couldn't move for a while. His shadow fell heavily on the cold concrete of the emergency stairs. The culprit is me. The "deregulation" proposal I wrote is destroying the scenery next to my parents' home, hurting my father's pride, and frightening my mother and their beloved dog. I felt nauseous. The mackerel miso in my stomach felt like mud. Toru gripped his smartphone tightly. --I won't forgive you. Neither the people who are selling this country off in pieces, nor myself for being complicit in it.

***

Friday, November 7.

A private kappo restaurant with no sign in a back alley of Nishi-Azabu. When Toru passed through the noren curtain, two women were already in the private room at the back. However, the air was frozen. Kanae Takaishi sat in the seat of honor. Opposite her, Satsuki Kamiyama. The two were once expected to be a "female duo to carry the future of conservatism," but now they weren't even making eye contact. It was as if an invisible "wall" was towering in the center of the table. "...I've been waiting, wizard," Kanae said quietly. She wasn't wearing the worn-out jacket from when they met the other day, but a well-tailored dark suit. She had dignity, but the color of bitterness seeped into her face. "To think you were the ace planner of Teito Agency. It's an interesting era where a mole comes from the enemy's main stronghold." Toru bowed and sat in the lower seat between the two. Satsuki Kamiyama, sitting opposite, was fanning herself looking displeased. She wore a flashy fluorescent pink suit and a large pearl necklace. 58 years old. She was the same age as Kanae, but Kanae had a longer career as a politician. Kamiyama, a former Ministry of Finance bureaucrat, had parted ways with Kanae during the internal party strife after falling into the opposition, and they hadn't spoken since. "So? Why do I have to eat with this person (Takaishi) at this late hour?" Kamiyama didn't even touch the appetizer served to her and glared at Toru. "Just because you've been removed from your party position and have free time, don't rely on old connections." A stinging sarcasm. Kanae replied coldly without moving an eyebrow. "Don't misunderstand, Ms. Kamiyama. I don't intend to get cozy with you either. ...I just needed your nasty personality and your obsession with numbers." "What did you say!?" Snap, the fan was closed. A hair-trigger atmosphere. Toru opened his mouth quietly. If he didn't, they would leave the table. "Ms. Kamiyama. I didn't come here to talk about the past. ...I came to talk about a common enemy." Toru took a list out of his bag and placed it on the "wall" on the table. "The 'Water Source and Old Folk House Acquisition Problem' in Kyoto. This is the secret ledger." Kamiyama's eyebrows twitched. "That's the deregulation that idiot Iwao (Defense Minister) did, right? Rumors that Chinese capital is moving behind the scenes—I could find that out in a second by asking my juniors from my Ministry of Finance days. So what?" "It's not a rumor. It's evidence." Kamiyama snatched the list and ran her eyes over it. It was the look of a bureaucrat cornering her prey. "...It goes through dummy companies, but all the flow of funds leads to the 'General Incorporated Association: Asia Coexistence Foundation'..." Kamiyama's tone changed. "Coexistence Foundation... No way." "Yes. It's an organization where Prime Minister Renjo's ally, lawmaker Mizuki Fukushima, serves as a special advisor." Kamiyama's hand trembled. In her anger, her flashy nails dug into the document. "That woman! While shouting about human rights and multiculturalism, she's selling off this country's land behind the scenes and getting kickbacks. ...I can't forgive this. It goes against my calculations (aesthetics)."

"I need your administrative processing ability and the connections you have left in Kasumigaseki." Toru put his hands on the tatami and bowed deeply. "Ms. Takaishi's breakthrough power alone cannot pin down the fine flow of money. ...Please stop this country from being sold off. Please protect Kyoto, where my mother lives." Kamiyama looked down at Toru, then at Kanae directly in front of her. Kanae was looking back at Kamiyama quietly. With a complex gaze, as a comrade who once fought together, but now as someone walking a different path. After a long silence, Kamiyama snorted and shoved the list into her bag. "Don't misunderstand. It's not like I'm making up with you." Kamiyama pointed her fan at Kanae. "I just hate that thick-makeup Prime Minister and the hypocrite Mizuki Fukushima. ...I'll consider this a favor, senior Takaishi." The final word "senior" was mixed with intense irony and a tiny bit of respect. Kanae raised the corners of her mouth slightly. "Thanks. I'm counting on you, unfinished monster." "I'll do it. At next week's budget committee, I'll overturn all of their answers."

When they left the shop, that rainbow-colored Skytree was floating in the Tokyo night sky again. Toru took a deep breath of the cold night air. The two who had once broken apart had formed a distorted alliance in the face of a common enemy. He had obtained his first weapon. It was a dangerous drug that was difficult to handle but had outstanding destructive power. He took out his smartphone and sent a LINE message to Yuito. "Sorry, work isn't finished yet. Go to sleep first." It was a lie. If he went home now, he would still be awake. But he felt that he didn't deserve that warm room right now. The smell of the conspiracy and heat of the closed room in Nishi-Azabu was soaked into his whole body. Toru hailed a taxi alone. "RAFT" was still just a flimsy little boat made of a few logs tied together. But there was no turning back now. He had no choice but to row out into this blue, cold ocean.

To be continued

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May tomorrow be a good awakening for you.

Cogio Suzusaka
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