The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master

Barely ten minutes had passed since Ryozo called Choi Seol-Ah when—

“Ryozo!”

Her sister burst into the director’s office with overwhelming force.

Her majestic stride resembled that of a general returning victorious.

The energetic tac-tac of her Japanese geta echoed as she entered. Saki Hina, brimming with pride, saw me and her eyes opened wide.

“…Heavenly Sword?”

She seemed unaware I was present. So caught up was she that her surprise doubled.

I raised my hand in a relaxed gesture to help her calm down.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has been a while.”

I had met with Saki Hina a few months ago, but—

‘By mutual agreement, we left that encounter in the past.’

Even if it wasn’t romantic, what would others think if the sister-in-law met in secret with her sister’s husband? That was tabloid headline material. Especially for Ryozo.

Saki Hina covered her surprise with a dry cough. Then, in a voice a couple of tones lower, she asked:

“What brings you here, Ryozo?”

“If that’s how you treat someone coming to do you a favor, that breeze might turn into a storm, sister.”

“P-Pardon!”

Saki Hina immediately bowed in submission. Seeing this, Ryozo gave a small nod of her chin, and her sister hurried to sit as if racing for the seat.

Not exactly a dignified scene for a head of government.

‘In the end, maybe I’m not the one sharing the world with the Emperor… but Ryozo.’

With that absurd idea, I turned to her.

Ryozo sighed. After a few seconds of calm, she spoke with a serene, deep voice.

“Japan has promised to send material aid to our country. If I remained silent, your situation in Parliament would get complicated, wouldn’t it?”

C-correct.

“…Yes.”

In Japan, the prime minister is elected by the members of Parliament.

Saki Hina didn’t have the charisma or strength of her father, Kojima. And though she carried the clan’s prestige, time eventually eroded any lineage. In the world of heroes, what mattered was proving one’s worth.

“Lately I’ve gained a lot of political enemies… they say that, as prime minister, I haven’t achieved anything concrete. And also…”

She glanced sideways, hesitant, before continuing.

“Some representatives are spreading the rumor that I’m not the one really making the decisions—that it’s you, Ryozo. D-Don’t take it the wrong way, because it’s true! But… I just want to protect the legacy Father left us. You know the current status of the Saki family is the result of his lifetime of sacrifice. If it crumbles in my generation…”

Hina trembled as if she didn’t want to even imagine it.

Ryozo, her voice steady, replied:

“So you asked me to write the funeral speech because you want to show Parliament that the Saki family still stands strong.”

“Yes.”

Very few knew the details of what had happened between Kojima and Ryozo.

But considering the circumstances, it was clear to the world that the relationship between father and daughter had not been harmonious. Otherwise, Ryozo wouldn’t have renounced her surname and taken Korean citizenship.

Though I, who knew the truth, understood it wasn’t exactly like that.

‘People believe what they want to believe.’

And manipulating those beliefs was precisely the job of parliamentarians.

Saki Hina’s political rivals aimed to use the opportunity to drastically cut her power.

‘After all, Hina is the most pro-Korea prime minister Japan has ever had.’

In the Miracle Blessing M world, Korea wasn’t just another rival for Japan, but a superpower on par with the United States.

Hina let her shoulders drop, but then, in a burst of defiance, shouted.

“Do you know what those representatives told me yesterday? That I’m a puppet of Korea! A puppet! Do they know how hard I’ve worked for Japan? And they say it’s all a lie!”

“I know, I know.”

“If you answer so flatly, it hurts more, Ryozo!”

“No. I’m not joking. I truly know how hard you work, sister.”

“…R-Really?”

“Of course.”

“Hehe.”

Ryozo knew her sister too well. It was scary.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Really? Hey, no backing out later!”

“I always keep my promises.”

Saki Hina could barely contain her joy. She looked radiant.

‘And no wonder.’

Ryozo was, without question, one of the most influential figures in the world. Not only the director of Joaquin Academy but also the highest authority in the postgraduate division.

These two sisters didn’t act purely out of familial bonds. They couldn’t.

They were forced to carefully weigh the benefits and costs for the institutions they represented.

‘Now the prime minister can return with her head held high.’

If she had received the favor for free, the representatives would’ve used it as a weapon against her.

That Saki Ryozo would agree to write the funeral speech would be, for Saki Hina, a win capable of prolonging her political life.

“But with one condition.”

Ryozo opened a new pack of yokan with her teeth as she spoke.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t review the content of the speech.”

“…Of course…”

“Don’t worry.”

She spat out the silver wrapper with a “pff” and scored a perfect shot into the trash can next to the sofa.

“I’ll make sure it won’t cause you any problems.”

***

I, Kang Geom-Ma.

It’s not boasting, but I consider myself completely ignorant when it comes to diplomacy and administration.

People may find it ridiculous at this point, being one of the Seven Stars, but the truth is, all it takes is for someone to look into my eyes for diplomacy to become very simple.

Of course, I understood in my last conversation with the Pope that that’s not real diplomacy. That’s a threat.

Until now, I’ve used my sashimi to gain advantages for myself, my loved ones, and my nation.

‘You can’t get very far like that.’

In noble society, dissatisfaction keeps spreading, like pimples on a teenager: no matter how many you pop, they keep coming back.

The best diplomacy is “exchange.”

That said, it has to appear beneficial to our side. Even if it actually involves losses, if public opinion accepts it as a national benefit, it can be called successful diplomacy.

‘Ryozo… she wouldn’t do it like that.’

What I learned from Ryozo is that she always makes it look like her organization came out the winner. When it’s time to sign, the other party bows repeatedly saying “thank you, thank you,” and only much later do they realize it was a diplomatic blunder.

‘Will it be the same this time?’

Someone like me wouldn’t know.

That’s why Ryozo was kind enough to clarify it aloud.

“This time I didn’t focus much on cost-benefit analysis. It was more like a whim. If I can, I want to write the eulogy in a way that benefits my sister.”

We were chatting in the kitchen at home while making rice balls—our rations for the trip. Tomorrow, we’d be flying to Japan.

Ryozo almost never eats airplane food. She says it’s bad for the body, and that if she wants to live many years with me, she has to take care of her health.

Besides, technically you can’t bring food on a plane. But we’re flying private, so it doesn’t matter.

‘When I was a cadet and went to Switzerland, I flew in economy.’

I’ve come a long way, Kang Geom-Ma.

I was shaping rice balls beside her and said:

“This is the first time you’ve talked like that about anyone other than me.”

“I know I’m devoted to you, Geom-Ma, but Hina is still family. She’s part of the Saki clan I’m still in touch with. And it’s not like she’s never given me anything. This, at least, I can do.”

“I see. But the shape of your rice balls is…”

“What? They’re avant-garde and cool!”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a rice ball be called avant-garde.”

Clicking her tongue, Ryozo went back to shaping her rice balls. As always, I talked too much. Every time we cooked, if I opened my mouth, it was to nitpick something.

So I changed the subject discreetly.

“Did you finish the funeral speech?”

“Yeah.”

“When? We’ve been together the whole time and I never saw you write anything.”

“I wrote it in my head. About ten thousand characters. And I’ve already revised it twenty times.”

Ah.

“What’s with that surprised face? Geom-Ma, don’t you fish with your eyes closed?”

“Ahem… well, yeah…”

Right then, a thunderous voice fell on us.

“Oh? So you fish with your eyes closed when I’m not around?”

That killer aura—what the hell? I hadn’t sensed a thing.

I turned my head, and of course, there was the Chief, sipping tea calmly.

“Damn!”

My heart nearly jumped out of my mouth!

While I flinched in shock, the Chief watched me closely.

“When I taught you to cook, I didn’t say to dawdle.”

“Haha.”

I laughed. Even if forced, laughter was my only salvation.

“So you fish with your eyes closed, huh?”

“It was just a saying. I never actually did it.”

“The problem is that you say it, you brat! You’re getting too relaxed!”

Ryozo, witnessing this paternal scolding, covered her shoulders, laughing. I was being lynched.

I went on shaping rice balls while feeling the Chief’s accusatory gaze on my back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him reclining with his chin in his hand, watching us. Or rather, watching me.

After a while, he let out a hearty laugh and muttered:

“You two look happy. Really happy.”

“I’d prefer if you whispered those things silently.”

“All right, all right. I’m not some tactless old man. I’ll get going now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rest well.”

“Rest well, Father.”

“Before I go—”

Before heading to his room, the Chief, unable to resist his curiosity, picked up one of Ryozo’s rice balls.

“F-Father!”

Ryozo was startled. A rare sight.

The Chief examined the rice ball from different angles and finally popped it into his mouth.

Crunch, crack.

Why did it sound like that when chewing a rice ball?

It wasn’t my imagination—the Chief’s face turned pale.

“…It has a peculiar taste…”

He never said things without basis. I suppose he wanted to protect his daughter-in-law’s pride.

Ryozo’s cheeks flushed red, her lips twitching awkwardly.

“It can’t be that bad…”

Damn, I want to bite those puffed cheeks like rice balls.

***

The next day.

With just the essentials packed, we headed for Japan.

On the plane, Ryozo stared wistfully at the rice balls she’d made. Her gaze wasn’t that of someone looking at lunch—it was like seeing an old pencil case.

Before her sadness deepened, I took one of the rice balls from her hands.

“Don’t eat it!”

I ate it.

“Mmm.”

…Oh.

“It’s good.”

“Don’t say nonsense. That hurts more.”

The next day, Ryozo was back to normal, but I’m not one to lie.

“It really is fine.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“…Really?”

“Yes. The sweet and salty is a bit strong, but it’s an interesting combo.”

“Really?”

“Or am I supposed to say it’s bad to get it right?”

“Well, no…”

Finally, her lips relaxed. Your smile is the best seasoning.

“Then I’m glad.”

Feigning indifference, Ryozo looked out the window. The clouds floated by, sliced by the plane’s wings, sharp as sashimi.

I opened my mouth.

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“I know your worried face. If you don’t feel like it, just wing it.”

“It’s not the funeral speech. I resolved that yesterday.”

“Then what?”

“It’s about where we’re staying.”

“Where are we staying?”

“At the Saki house.”

Ah.

“It’s been almost ten years since I last went.”

It would be my first time.

“Worried about reliving the past?”

“That too… but mostly because I’ll be seeing my siblings.”

“Siblings? As in, the children Kojima had with his other wives…”

Even my tongue stumbled saying it.

Is this my future?

“Princess Victoria must feel the same in the imperial family.”

Ryozo followed the trails in the sky. Her blue irises seemed to lose their color.

‘What kind of relationship does she have with her siblings?’

What does Ryozo feel toward her family? What kind of people are those siblings to make her this uneasy?

It’s time to find out.