Public Morals Committee (1)

"Noooah. I'm sooooorry."

Chise draped herself over Noah, pouring on every ounce of spoiled, clinging charm she had. Noah did not so much as twitch. She kept her eyes on her book.

"Hmm? I really was wrong to push it through on my own. I mean it."

She tried looking pitiful from the edge of the desk. Noah turned her head away with an audible snap.

This is bad. She's sulking for real.

Honestly, there had been a certain amount of force involved. But if Chise hadn't shoved it through, Noah would never have gone anywhere near something like the Public Morals Committee.

The thing Noah hated most in the world was anything that sounded like a hassle. The thing she hated second-most was having to communicate with other human beings. The Public Morals Committee was both.

Sensing a genuine crisis, Chise reached for her finishing move.

At a time like this… there's really only one option.

There was a restriction she had been carrying out at Noah's mother's request. To make up for this, Chise decided she had no choice but to lift it.

Lady Kako. Forgive me!

She spoke the words like a vow.

Snap.

Noah folded her book shut. The corner of her mouth curled up.

"If that's how you want it, Chise, I guess I've got no choice."

She held out a small hand as if she had been waiting for those exact words. Chise passed her a white, square box with trembling fingers. The gesture looked uncomfortably like a drug deal.

"Our Japan, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠together with our longstanding ally the Korean Empire, divides the world between us. Military power belongs to Korea; the economy belongs to Japan. Because each nation is content in its place, the peace of the world is preserved. The Korean Empire is not merely an ally — it is Japan's oldest friend and partner. That is why we always respect one another, and why we come to each other's aid in times of hardship. This is something you must never forget."

"Doesn't that sound a lot like the Fujiwaras and the Minamotos?" Chise whispered from the next seat. "The relationship between Japan and Korea, I mean."

…Korea and Japan, getting along.

Of all the things that had startled her after reincarnating, this was the biggest. In this world, Korea and Japan were on good terms. Better than good terms — people called them "brother nations bound by true blood."

Even now, she didn't entirely buy it.

Anyway, the whole arrangement started from a single, simple, ridiculous what if.

What if Joseon had never been founded?

In the history Noah remembered, Yi Seong-gye had disobeyed an impossible order, turned his army around at the Yalu River, and built Joseon. In this world, instead of the Wihwa Island Retreat, Yi Seong-gye forged the legend of the Liaodong Conquest — because when he reached the banks of the Yalu, a letter from Choe Yeong moved him so deeply he pressed on.

The result: the Ming lost the war. In this world, Yi Seong-gye became a great general who had carried out an impossible mission, and Goryeo rose as the hegemonic power of Northeast Asia. Goryeo used that momentum to pursue an aggressive foreign policy and pour everything into national defense, even succeeding in developing the world's first matchlock firearm.

They had started to want a bite of the Ming, but they still lacked a pretext, and the timing still felt premature — and that was when Japan showed up with a proposal: Want to ally with us and hit the Ming? Goryeo accepted on the spot and charged.

There was no Imjin War. The two of them walked into Ming territory hand in hand. The result was a crushing victory. As its prize, Japan asked for only one thing: When we need a road, lend us one.

From Japan's point of view, it had been a decision made through gritted teeth after seeing Goryeo's overwhelming army and thinking, Wait. You're kidding. Goryeo, meanwhile, was genuinely touched — That's really all you want…? You people are decent, you know that? — and threw its full support behind them.

A perfect win-win. So Japan never stabbed anyone in the back. Korea and Japan, now thick as thieves, shared what they had, helped each other grow, and succeeded at modernization.

In 1776, they launched a war of conquest with a new goal: world domination. That was the start of the First World War. Another overwhelming victory. After that, nothing could stop them.

Because the First World War had been pulled forward to 1776, the country that should have become the United States never came into being. And because there was no United States, the final technology of modern warfare — nuclear weapons — ended up in Korean and Japanese hands. With real power in their grip, Korea and Japan split their roles and carved up the world in the open.

The only trace of America left in this world was the name of the new currency they had agreed on as a reserve — the dollar.

That's actually pretty funny.

Before she knew the backstory, she had thought even fantasy novels didn't get this fantastical. Then again, if you ran enough simulations of the planet Earth, maybe a world like this was possible.

Anyway, having skipped Joseon entirely, Korea's state religion and national identity had gone straight from Goryeo to the Korean Empire. This was not some desperate empire backed into a corner and forced into a last resort. Most of what had been China was, in the present day, Korean land.

The textbook maps were stuffed with Korean territory. China, meanwhile, was left with something about the size of Taiwan. A real speck. A literal booger of a country.

Whenever Noah looked at the map, she had to fight not to laugh.

That's hilarious.

Clutching her stomach, she had personally rechristened China "Tiny Nation."

"Tiny Nation? Ugh, Noah, that's a nasty hobby. Discrimination is bad."

"The land's small and the people are small-minded. Tiny Nation fits."

"That's weird. So Korea is the Korean Empire because the land is big?"

"Dunno."

Noah cut it off clean and shut the textbook. It was a pretty entertaining history, but something about it made her cringe, and she didn't particularly want to keep staring at it.

"More importantly, Chise."

Noah looked at her with a delinquent's slant.

"Hm?"

"Let's ditch."

"Huh?"

"I can't sit through history. Not happening."

From that day on, Noah never attended another world history class.

"So this is the Public Morals Committee room."

Noah delivered the verdict with all the enthusiasm of someone reading a weather report.

"There's really nothing in here."

"Mm. The Saints student council is a kind of exam, too. First-years are competitors. They wouldn't have wanted to leave even a scrap behind."

"Petty."

"Even if they weren't, the school collects everything. They want to see how you rebuild from scratch so they can gauge your ability."

A room of about two hundred and sixty square feet sat completely empty.

"They could've at least left us some furniture."

"Wealth is probably part of the evaluation, don't you think?"

Chise smiled brightly and took out her phone. Buying new might actually be better. One call from Chise, and they could be sitting on furniture made by the finest craftsmen in the world.

"Furniture from Ristone Giorda in Italy, and…"

She started picking through options.

"Chise. A bed, too."

"Ah ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— yes. A be—— no, Noah! We are not getting a bed!"

Tch.

Noah clicked her tongue and opened the window. She planted her weight on one leg, fished something from her pocket, and—

Ditching class and having a smoke. That's happiness right there.

Crinkle.

Plastic tore. She put it to her lips. Something white and slender stuck out. She took a drag, then exhaled long and deep with a wasted look on her face.

"Haaah."

Noah closed her eyes for a moment, opened them, and said,

"Umai."

What Noah had in her mouth was a piece of candy.

In her previous life she had been a wretched chain-smoker. Reincarnation had swapped her out for a brand-new pair of lungs that had never touched a speck of nicotine — but it had not managed to scrape the habit out of her soul. Layer that on top of her new weakness for anything sweet, and you got a magnificent substitute: candy.

"This is bad, Noah!"

"What."

Chise stood there clutching her phone, trembling from head to toe.

"…They say we can't use our own money."

"Huh?"

"W-we can only spend the amount the student council assigned us! Wh-what do we do?"

Noah's eyes narrowed. Chise was generally sharp, but every so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠often she went completely blank like this.

"Why is that a problem?"

"Uh…?"

"Just spend it."

"But if we do that—"

"If we do that, what."

Chise faltered. Noah folded her arms and spoke, voice gone cold.

"What exactly is supposed to happen."

"…There'd be some kind of penalty, wouldn't there?"

Noah let out a small sigh.

Laws. Rules. Those were things the weak followed. You only obeyed them because you had no choice but to live under them. Would a billionaire lose sleep over a fine? Would a dictator or a king refuse to kill someone because murder was a crime? Would a soldier on a battlefield refuse to pull the trigger because killing people wasn't moral?

Noah had seen it countless times. Laws of war. Peace treaties. Soldiers trampling over those pathetic, desk-drafted rules of combat as if they were nothing. Underneath it all sat a simple confidence: if you could handle the consequences of what you did, you could do whatever you wanted.

And more than that—

"If it gets in the way, you clear it out. Don't think like some girl, Chise."

The Minamotos were a house of real men. If something blocked the road ahead, you smashed it. Noah had the strength and the power to do exactly that. No matter who stood in front of her.

Chise offered a strained little smile.

"Um. We're both girls."

Noah cut straight through it.

"What matters is an unyielding heart."

"I don't think that's how you use that…"

"The heart!"

Faced with that rock-solid answer, Chise ran out of things to say.

Ksshh—

The PA crackled to life.

"Heh heh. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

"Thank you, Principal."

The shiny-headed principal smiled and vanished. The moment Noah saw who was sitting on the sofa, her eyes started trembling like aspen leaves.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"M-Mama…?"

Hic.

Noah hiccupped and stepped backward.

"Why in the world—"

Sixteen years into her life as Minamoto Noah, a crisis of life and death had arrived.

"Oh my. Noah."

A woman with a warm, crinkling smile — and a face that looked a great deal like Noah's. Her name was Minamoto Kako. Noah's mother, and the only counter in this world that actually worked on her.

"It isn't snack time yet, and here you are with candy in your mouth."

Cold sweat soaked Noah from head to toe. It felt like the blood was draining out of her. This was the same Noah who didn't flinch an inch in front of Genji himself — and she was terrified of her mother.

Genji might look cold, but no one doted on his daughter harder. Kako looked kind, and was the strictest parent alive. The person who had broken Noah of swearing at the end of every sentence. The person who had made her wear a yukata properly. The person who had gotten her into skirts. The person who had made sure she did not wear shorts underneath those skirts. All of it was Kako's work.

Noah kept her convictions no matter who she was dealing with. Against Kako, they simply did not work.

"If my little Noah got a cavity, Mama would… Mama would…"

Ping—

A real man does not make a woman he treasures cry! And even setting that aside, Noah was not a monster who abused her own mother!

Her pupils shook. She backed up another step. Chise bowed at the waist with perfect courtesy.

"I hope you have been well, Madam Minamoto."

Kako dabbed at her eyes and smiled, a little wistful.

"You're still so stiff, Chise. You don't have to be."

"I couldn't possibly."

Color rose in Chise's face.

She said she was going abroad for a little while. So she's back now.

The only person in the world who could freeze that unmanageable Noah with a single word. Since they were children, Kako had been Chise's idol — her role model, full stop.

I have to get her to teach me every last trick.

While Chise was thinking that, Noah spoke, voice shaking.

"M-Mama, why are you here? I thought you were on a business trip overseas."

"Noah, sweetheart."

Still smiling, Kako tilted her head.

"Aren't you going to take that candy out?"

Noah jolted, yanked the candy from her mouth, and hid it behind her back.

"I-it's only the first one."

"Is that true? Chise, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Noah loved sweet things. She just didn't like advertising it. She seemed to find it embarrassing. There was one exception: candy. That, she could not help. She lived with one in her mouth. Twenty a day was standard. If she was in a foul mood, she could hit thirty. She ate so many that Chise had started worrying about her health and taken over management — and then, because of the earlier incident, she had been forced to lift the restriction.

For the record, today was number fifteen. After going so long without, Noah had been crunching them instead of letting them melt, and Chise had watched it happen more than once — but she had at least this much loyalty.

Noah looked at her with a face full of raw gratitude.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, look at me. Noah. Come sit here."

"O-okay."

"I heard you skipped every morning class today. Is that true?"

Noah flinched. Her head turned with mechanical stiffness.

Chise. Help.

Chise could not bring herself to refuse those desperate eyes.

"I-I was the one who led it."

"…Minamoto Noah."

Kako's gentle voice dropped.

"Are you shifting the blame onto your friend right now?"

"N-no, Mama, that's not—"

"A Minamoto, passing off responsibility. It must be because Mama raised you so poorly."

Kako took Noah's hand and teared up.

"I'm sorry Mama is so clumsy."

Noah froze solid. She looked like she would shatter if anyone so much as tapped her, and after so long apart she was even cuter than usual. But they could not leave it like this.

Chise shot her hand up, ramrod straight.

"That's not it! We joined the Public Morals Committee! Y-you know how it is, don't you? In the early days the committee work is so busy you're allowed to miss class."

Kako's eyes went round.

"The Public Morals Committee? Is that true?"

She stood, came around to Noah's side, and crouched down. When Noah lied, her pupils always shook. That was what Kako wanted to see.

"Y-yeah."

"Look Mama in the eye."

"It's true."

Noah looked thoroughly cowed, but her pupils did not waver. A flower bloomed in Kako's smile.

"Noah!"

"M-Mama, I can't breathe—"

Kako crushed her in a hug.

"You finally found something you actually want to do!"

They really do get along, every time I see them.

Chise gazed fondly at the pair of pink-haired mother and daughter.

And then.

Ding—

"Ah."

Noah went limp!

"L-Lady Kako! Noah — Noah's—!"