Chapter 66 – The 1928 Continental Situation (1)

April is the event season for me.
This year’s April also had its fair share of events. 

Following the opening ceremony of the Ootori Hotel, the “Houou-kai” was ultimately set to be held at the Ootori Hotel in mid-April.

Then in May, also at the Ootori Hotel, a gathering was held in the form of a standing buffet-style indoor party—informal, but following the style of the Ootori family’s traditional garden party.

Personally, while there’s no entrance ceremony for me, I do advance to the next grade in the new school year, and on the 4th, my birthday awaits.
I’ll be turning eight this year, but since I started a year early, I’m already in third grade.

Still, there haven’t been any major changes from last year.
It seems that apart from me, most people don’t start choosing their future retainers until middle school, so it’s not like I’m gaining more close companions.

And since I was born into an empress-like status at Ootori Academy, there are kids who try hard to cozy up to me due to their parents’ connections, but there are none who innocently or genuinely want to be my friend.
Even if someone seems like they might become a retainer, they still have to go through an investigation and screening by the Ootori household staff, and their background must be cleared and deemed safe.

When it comes to making friends, I sometimes regret not going to Gakushuuin.
But even if I had attended Gakushuuin, unless the families of the students in my grade were of equal or higher status and wealth than mine, it would still be difficult for them to interact with me on equal footing.

That said, there aren’t that many children of the peerage each year, and when it comes to children of financial conglomerates attending Gakushuuin, the number is even smaller.
If their parents are just politicians, high-ranking bureaucrats, or top taxpayers, they’d have to be exceptional to stand on equal terms with me.

So, anyone who approaches me—or whom I approach—would be doing so based on interests and calculation.

It makes me want to lament how harsh the world is, even from childhood.
Micchan and Oyo-chan, who are candidates to become my retainers, feel more like friends to me personally, but there’s still a hierarchy between us.
At best, they’re comrades heading in the same direction. 

And when I give the order to charge, the ones who fall first would be the two of them—or three, counting Teruo-kun.

Even the Ootori children are friendly with me now and feel like siblings or friends, but as they grow older, they’ll have to think more about their positions.
Even Youko-chan, who will eventually be married off somewhere, is no exception.

That’s the path for those born into a house that stands above others.

That’s why the time we can remain children is so precious and dear.

And yet, because I am the “Dreaming Miko,” I’ve already half-joined the ranks of adults.
The clan doesn’t treat me like a child either.

I myself don’t mind that in the least, so I really am beyond saving.

Ryuuya-oniisama feels pained about my position and all, but when it really matters, he wouldn’t spoil me.

And hopeless as I am, here I am again today, in my study, facing documents and materials.

“Still, the continent is as noisy as ever, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is.”

“Do you think Zhang Zuolin will unify the Republic of China?”

“I cannot say.”

“That may be true, but don’t you have any impressions? Sometimes, things are sparked by offhand remarks like that.”

At that, Shizu looked at me and seemed to think for a moment.

Good.
That’s a good sign.

Though her answer was blunt, she stated it firmly.

“I lack the knowledge, so I cannot speak carelessly.”

“Ah, right.”

Still, I really am hopeless—here I am, in my other room, spreading out the newspaper and discussing current affairs with Shizu.
After responding, I looked up at the ceiling and thought to myself,

(What am I even doing?)

I didn’t sigh, but I did stretch to refresh myself.
That was always how I was during work in my previous life too.

And now, my daily routine goes like this: in the morning, I play the role of a “masked elementary schooler,” then after enjoying the brief relief that is school lunch, I return home. 

From then until evening, I receive elite education alongside the Ootori children from private tutors or take lessons befitting a member of the peerage.
After dinner, I spend my time working like this every day.

To put it bluntly, there’s not a single day where I just play for fun.

It’s no different from when I was an office lady in my previous life.
And since I’m used to it, the fact that it doesn’t particularly bother me feels all the more depressing.

That said, I do make a token effort to play during recess at school, but it’s painfully obvious that the other kids are walking on eggshells around me, so it never really feels like I’m playing.

If this is how things are from childhood, it’s no wonder noble girls end up turning into villains.

In that sense, Oyo-chan, who doesn’t go out of her way to be considerate because she’s an outsider, is a precious presence.
And the brief moments of roughhousing during study breaks with the Ootori children are also incredibly valuable.

Even if this is all just part of a game setting, having people like this around me is a major emotional support.

I’ve gone off topic, but as for what kinds of lessons I’m taking—they include tea ceremony, flower arrangement, dance, Western ballroom dance, music, and so on.

Starting this year, I’m also scheduled to take horseback riding, which I’m a bit excited about since it’ll let me move around outdoors.
But since all of them are lessons for someone who’s part of the peerage or a financial conglomerate, they’re hardly hobbies in any real sense.

Of course, it’s not like I never play—but when I do decide to play, I go all in and forget everything else while making a ruckus.

And then, suddenly, I look back and get startled.

(My current lifestyle is just like that of a salaryman from the ‘Can you fight 24 hours a day?’ era!)

From the day I realized that, I tried taking Sundays off and lazing around as much as possible for a while.
But even that ended up following the same cycle as a borderline-black company salaryman lifestyle, and I honestly felt fed up with myself. 

Honestly, it’s worse than my previous life.

Thanks to Shizu and the other staff managing everything from food, clothing, shelter, to my health perfectly, I wouldn’t even notice unless I tried to—and that, in a way, backfired.

And after my second emotional turning point, I ended up right back where I started.
I’m now running full speed ahead, recklessly and with everything I’ve got.

That said, my schedule remained calm until summer.

And just as I had commented when reviewing a certain report, the situation on the continent was changing rapidly.

In April, while I was reasonably busy and reasonably enjoying myself, Chiang Kai-shek, having failed to achieve any results in Japan, had now set out on a trip across America.
Also, Soong Mei-ling wasn’t with him—serves him right.

On the other hand, Zhang Zuolin, who was entering the springtime of his reign, tried to gain the support of foreign powers by showing his anti-communist stance through a campaign against the Kuomintang, which was seen as accommodating to communists.
Faced with the reality that there was no more suitable power figure, foreign countries chose to support Zhang Zuolin. 

Japan’s Tanaka Cabinet also began to back Zhang more strongly, though only after assessing the situation around them.

However, because Zhang was receiving foreign support, his domestic popularity continued to decline.
With the rise of nationalism on the continent, anyone receiving help from the great powers was seen as a traitor.

Even so, things managed to stay afloat thanks to financial aid from various countries and the fact that the Kuomintang was hopeless.
And the way most things could be settled with money—well, that’s just the continent’s way.

Then, on a certain day in May, the National Revolutionary Army led by Wang Jingwei, which had advanced north to confront Zhang Zuolin’s forces, clashed with them.

From the perspective of the major powers, it was a battle between groups that could barely be called armies.
They were still using swords and bows, with rifles being their primary weapons. 

Having even a light machine gun was considered heavily armed.
There were barely any cannons capable of long-range fire.

Rather than a modern war, it resembled an old-fashioned battlefield skirmish.

And because of that, the outcome was decided by numbers and momentum.
In both, Zhang Zuolin and his merry band were overwhelmingly superior.

The Zhang Zuolin army, with Zhang Xueliang as its de facto commander, achieved a major victory, and the Kuomintang scattered and fled to places like Nanjing.
The surrounding warlords followed Zhang Zuolin.

It was a situation that made everyone think the outcome had been decided.

Since the decisive moment happened right around the auspicious day in May when the Ootori family held their garden party, this became the dominant topic of conversation at the event.