Reincarnated as Napoleon

Chapter 338 Japan's Reaction

Japan, an island nation, has known an existence shaped by its geography and the indomitable spirit of its people. For centuries, this archipelago nestled in the heart of Asia has been an enigma - a silent observer of the interplay of powers that surged around it.

It all began with the age of Yayoi, around 300 B.C., when the introduction of wet-field rice cultivation from Asia brought a shift from a hunter-gatherer lifestyle to that of an agrarian society. Rice wasn't just a crop; it was a catalyst that spurred societal evolution, fostering the development of complex social structures and birthing the genesis of a hierarchical society.

The seasons rolled on and the age of Kofun saw the rise of powerful clan leaders. Burial mounds, intricate and grand, dotted the landscape, silently attesting to the opulence and authority these leaders commanded. Then emerged the Asuka period, where Buddhism and a more complex social structure marked significant advancement, underpinned by Chinese influence.

Yet, for all its advancements and its silent absorption of external influences, Japan maintained a quiet identity, a silent dignity. When Empress Suiko and her regent, Prince Shotoku, endorsed Buddhism, it didn't merely serve as a spiritual ethos but was the bedrock of unifying a nation that, until then, was fractured among potent clans.

During the Heian period, the aristocracy thrived in the city of Heian-kyō, the 'capital of peace and tranquility', today's Kyoto. Art and literature burgeoned, and the iconic 'Tale of Genji' by Murasaki Shikibu, gave voice to the silent, soulful musings of an era that knew both splendor and the echoes of inevitable decline.

The years unfolded the tapestry of an epoch where samurais, renowned for their martial expertise and austere code of ethics, not only protected but also governed the land. Minamoto no Yoritomo rose, and with him, the epoch of the Kamakura shogunate. Japan, for the first time, was under the de facto rule of a military dictator, a Shogun.

A quiet power, an inherent strength, marked the Japanese existence. Even as Mongols attempted invasions, the kamikaze, or 'divine winds', asserted Japan's silent yet resilient stance. Nature, it seemed, was an ally, whispering the tales of a nation that bowed to no external force.

Silence was not a sign of stagnation. The 'warring states' period of the 15th century was anything but silent. Feudal lords, powerful and ambitious, clashed, and the archipelago, known for its tranquil beauty, was scarred by the constant battles.

Yet from this turmoil arose Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu, the triad that would unite a fractured land. The establishment of the Tokugawa shogunate in 1603 brought an era of stability. Japan closed its doors, choosing solitude and an existence dictated not by external influences but by an unwavering adherence to its roots.

And so, Japan existed, silent yet potent, observing a world that was oblivious to its concealed strength.

The year is 1821. Japan, with its self-imposed isolation, remained an enigma. A land of captivating beauty, yet a formidable fortress unyielding to the advances of the West. It's a nation veiled in mystery, its silent power and concealed strength yet to be unveiled to the world. The West, led by a resolute France, eyed this silent power, this closed nation, with both curiosity and imperialistic hunger.

The fishermen on Edo Bay, oblivious to the tides of change, were yet to understand that the silent mornings, the tranquil waters, and the enigmatic existence of their nation, were on the brink of an upheaval.

***

Hayato Takeyoshi, the Governor of Uruga, was a man of simple tastes. Even as a clan leader, the serenity of the morning hours, a quiet meal, and the silent embrace of his garden were pleasures he held above all else. He sat cross-legged, his kimono adorned with a modest crane pattern.

He was a stateman, his hair shaved from forehead to far back. The katana at his waist was an extension of his being, worn and used, yet meticulously maintained.

Hayato was enjoying a bowl of rice, pickled vegetables on the side, and a cup of green tea. The meal was plain, mirroring the simplicity he favored despite his rank. Every grain of rice, every sip of tea was a moment of solitude before the day's duties would claim his attention—

"Hayato-sama!" 

Shouted one of the samurais working under him, breaking the serene quietude of the morning. Hayato's hand paused midway to his mouth, the calm expression on his face yielding to one of mild annoyance. He disliked interruptions, especially during his sacred morning rituals.

"What is it, Mizuno?" Hayato inquired, his voice stern yet composed. The samurai, Mizuno, was breathless, his face painted with urgency. The protocol, the respect - all were momentarily forsaken in the wake of the pressing news he bore.

"Foreign ships, Hayato-sama, at Edo Bay," Mizuno quickly reported. 

"Those Western barbarians again huh? How many times do I have to tell them that they are only allowed to trade at Dejima?" Hayato muttered, irritation lacing his words. Mizuno could barely get his next words out.

"Sir, these aren't trading vessels. They are warships." Mizuno stammered. "And they are so massive that our junks dwarfed it a hundred times!"

"Are you serious? Mizuno, aren't you exaggerating the size?" Hayato asked, his voice laced with both annoyance and skepticism.

"I swear on my life, Hayato-sama, I have never seen anything like it before," Mizuno insisted.

Hayato stood up swiftly, his breakfast forgotten. The sudden urgency of the situation dispelled the calm of the morning. With a quick motion, he secured his katana, ready to face whatever threat these foreign invaders presented.

They hurried to Edo Bay, where a crowd had begun to gather, their faces marked with anxiety and curiosity. Hayato's sharp gaze fell upon the foreign ships slowly gliding on the surface of the water. His eyes—widened in shock.

"Oh Kami-sama…"

Hayato rubbed his eyes, still struggling to grasp the magnitude of what lay before him. The ships were enormous and unlike anything that had ever graced Japanese shores.

"They are from Furansu, Hayato-sama, what are we to do to them?" 

Before Hayato could answer, something unexpected happened at the deck of an imposing warship leading the fleet, seemingly the flagship. 

It fired its aft cannons, producing a loud and terrifying sound that echoed across the bay. The crowd, already anxious, broke into panic. It turned out that the cannons had fired blank rounds; no actual projectiles were launched. Yet, the psychological effect of such sound and power was clear. The Japanese, unfamiliar with such displays of force, were taken aback.

"We must inform the Shogun," Hayato said with urgency in his voice, turning to Mizuno. "Go, now! I'll hold down the fort and send our own fleet to meet the Westerners." 

"Hayato-sama, are we to fight them? With all due respect, I don't think we can win against a ship that massive. It's probably made of iron, our cannons wouldn't pierce it and the fire rockets won't burn them down." 

"This is a protocol we must do," Hayato replied firmly. "We can't just stand down and allow foreign forces to breach our waters unchallenged.

We don't seek a fight, but we won't be intimidated either."

Mizuno bowed deeply and then quickly retreated to carry out his orders. Hayato's gaze returned to the foreboding silhouettes of the French warships.

"Now, are they here to start a conflict?"