A K A S A K AP A L A C E
Minato, Tokyo, Japan | 12 March 2021 | 16:57 GMT +9 |
Akasaka Palace, home to the Crown Prince of the United Empire, seemed an oddly-placed entity. Unlike the large grounds of the Tokyo Imperial Palace replete with its well-manicured gardens, traditional architecture, and serene beauty, Akasaka Palace was a neo-Baroque palace built in a traditional European style. Originally commissioned by Emperor Yuki in 1909, it was designed as a guest house for visiting dignitaries. With 72 rooms and 15,000 sq meters of space, it was opulent and quite large for any single dignitary. In 1922, it became also home to the Crown Prince. The palace also doubled as a means by which the Emperor could meet with foreign dignitaries himself along with members of the government informal settings when the time was needed. Typically, when a Crown Prince was in residence, the Crown Prince would handle the meeting and greeting, entertainment, and dining options for the visiting dignitaries. When there was not a Crown Prince, foreign dignitaries were assisted with the palace’s general staff. As a part of the property was a more traditional State Guest House which was a great example of 20th-century Nihanchu design. The place sufficient enough to entertain everyone from Prime Ministers and Foreign Secretaries to Presidents and foreign Royalty. As a Crown Prince of the United Empire, Prince Seiji has resided in the palace since his 18th birthday. A fact that had not gone unnoticed by the general public who often tried to catch a peek at their future emperor. Akasaka Palace contained a footpath of nearly 3.25 km (2 miles) that was not crossed over by any road. It was upon this footpath that the Crown Prince would take his morning jogs. From certain points, one might be able to catch a brief glimpse of the prince during these runs.
On this day, it was not the prince jogging along the footpath that caught attention. The black Lexus GX entered the palace grounds. The car drove slowly to a stop outside the palace's main entrance and a portly man with a bald head appeared. He adjusted his black-rimmed spectacles, straightened his tie, and tugged on his suit coat. An aide took an extra moment to brush off the suit jacket. The man moved with a plodding place, his 81-year-old legs attempting to move him faster than they were capable. Two military guards opened the front door to the palace as the man entered, his aide in tow. Their well-polished dress shoes clacked across the marble entryway and into the hallway towards Prince Seiji's apartment. The plus red carpeting in this wing quieted the men's steps as they passed through the corridor. The hallway itself was lined with portraits of crown princes from before. Various hall tables also adorned the walkway sometimes bookended by seats for those awaiting anyone in a particular room. After a few moments, the two men arrived a the palace apartment. The bald man knocked on the door. The door was opened shallowly as the guard inside peered to see who was knocking. Upon meeting the serious gaze of the visitor, the guard opened the door and escorted the elderly man in, the aide was offered a seat by the door outside.
"Your Imperial Highness," the guard said as he deeply bowed towards the young, slender man seated in the room, teacup in hand. "Mr. Kento Tanaka, Personal Secretary of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Koji."
The 81-year-old bowed as best he could, his portly frame and aging back preventing the sort of low bow reserved for the Imperial Family.
"Thank you," Seiji said as he placed his cup of tea down on the small antique table beside him. The room itself was decorated quite formally with antique European furniture to accentuate the Neo-Baroque style palace. A small settee flanked by two chairs, an oak coffee table in a dark finish with matching side tables. Paintings on the wall of various members of the Imperial family from bygone eras also adorned the mostly white walls. The prince himself was not formally dressed. No visitors were on the schedule for the day. He sat wearing a pair of khaki pants and a light lavender polo shirt and a pair of loafers. He didn't rise from his perch, most royals didn't. Though the visit puzzled the 24-year-old prince. He nodded to Mr. Tanaka and motioned for him to have a seat in one of the flanking chairs. He did as requested.
"Would you care for a cup of tea?" The Prince asked.
"Your Imperial Highness is most generous, however under the circumstances, Sir, I shall have to reluctantly decline your offer." Mr. Tanaka stated with a serious tone.
"Under the circumstances?" The Prince asked. "What's happening?"
Mr. Tanaka cleared his throat, then removed his pocket square and cleaned off his glasses as Prince Seiji anticipated whatever news was about to be revealed. He watched the nervous motions made by Mr. Tanaka. He watched as Mr. Tanaka took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly. Then as Mr. Tanaka began to speak, he paused again, his eyes darting to and fro trying to come up with the words. He took one more deep breath. "Your Imperial Highness, it is my most unfortunate duty this afternoon to bring this most terrible and heartbreaking news."
"Your Imperial Highness, about two hours ago there was a plane crash in the Sea of Japan. The plane was bound from Tokyo to Seoul. Currently, our coast guard arrived on the scene." Mr. Tanaka said pausing his words abruptly.
Seiji's heart began to beat quickly and his palms began to sweat. He started to breathe faster as he hung on Mr. Tanaka's words. He took another breath and then spoke, "Go on."
"There are no signs of survivors amongst the wreckage."
"What plane was this," Seiji asked as his breathing became more heavy causing his chest to heave as he began to fight off tears.
"It was the Imperial Private Jet, Your Imperial Highness. It is my most unwelcomed duty to inform you that we have confirmed that His Imperial Majesty, your father, perished in the crash." Mr. Tanaka sighed. "The Coast Guard located your father's body amongst some fuselage wreckage that remained at the surface."
Seiji closed his eyes. He balled his fists. He bowed his head. He began to shake his head, then pound his clenched fists against his thighs. "No, no no no NO!" Seiji shouted, his face red and flushed, tears streaming down his face. "You tell that ship, you ORDER that ship to keep looking for my father. He's not dead, you FOOL! They have to have the wrong man!"
Mr. Tanaka stood up from his seat. "Your Imperial Highness, I have confirmed with my own eyes that it was your father. His picture was sent to me from the coast guard. If you wish, I will show you the proof. It is on my phone. Though I must warn you, it is not a pleasant sight, Sir. It was my sincerest and desperate hope that it was not your father." Seiji said nothing. He waved his hand at Tanaka not wanting to see the photograph. "Your Imperial Highness, I offer you my sincerest and most heartfelt condolences in this time to you and your family. If I may be of further assistance, I am most willing to help in any manner you see fit."
Seiji looked up. "Thank you, Mr. Tanaka. I will call for you when I need you."
"Yes, Your Imperial Highness," Mr. Tanaka said. "I must ask you this question before I depart, Sir. Have you chosen a regnal name?"
"A what?"
"A regnal name. The name by which you shall rule your people. Your father was born Kazuhiro and ruled as Kazuhito. Your grandfather, however, was born Kenji, but ruled as Fujihito."
"Do we have to do this now?" Seiji asked.
"We must know before we can formally make an announcement."
"Very well, then, Seijihito (正司仁). Now go."
Mr. Tanaka bowed, then walked towards the door to the room. The guard, himself crying, opened the door. Mr. Tanaka then turned around and looked back at Seiji. "All Hall His Imperial Majesty, Seijihito, Emperor of the United Empire of Japan and Greater Manchuria. May his reign never end."
Within the hour, the public broadcaster Zenkoku Hōsō Kyōkai (ZHK), began to make the somber announcement of the tragic passing of the emperor. In the streets of Tokyo and Beijing and Seoul, from the smallest of towns to the largest of cities, people gathered together as the newscasters read the news, their voices filling with sorrow. Normal television programming had stopped across the empire. Prime Minister Ichiro Yokohama and the National Parliament ordered three days of mourning. Banks, government offices, and schools would be closed. Thousands and thousands of people descended upon Akasaka Palace, placing flowers and cards at the gates. The same happened by the Tokyo Imperial Palace and the small Imperial Family vacation homes dotted around the nation. Even with an outpouring of such proportions from the half of a billion citizens of the empire, Seiji himself had never felt more alone.
