Historical Legitimacy
Before departing for Busan, Hong Sa-ik asked what would become of the Korean soldiers they had brought along. Hui-yeong answered as if she had prepared for the question long in advance.
"The Koreans of Japanese military origin will be sent to the South Gyeongsang Provincial People's Committee for screening."
"Busan is the largest city in Gyeongsang, and if we're limiting ourselves to South Gyeongsang Province, there's hardly any comparison at all. You're telling me the regional people's committee isn't based there?"
Hong Sa-ik asked with a puzzled frown. If a branch office had been established in Busan, then since these were men he had gone to the trouble of bringing over, it was clear he'd intended to see his subordinates handed over in person. Hui-yeong replied.
"No, sir. The committee is currently based in Masan and operating from there."
"So the takeover of Busan isn't complete yet."
He seemed satisfied with the explanation. I, who had been quietly watching from a distance, stepped slightly forward and saluted Hong Sa-ik. As a subject of Japan, at least for the time being, I had no clear reason to refuse the salute—unlike Hui-yeong.
"Minister. It's true that Japanese influence in Busan remains strong, but we are not so lacking in police resources that we can't muster the force to accommodate these men. Word has already been sent to Masan, and Korean police officers will be deployed to Busan Port shortly. You must board today's train and return to Keijo."
"Ajisai?"
He read my name tag. For him, reading it as a Japanese surname came far more naturally than the Korean reading of the characters.
"Yes. Ajisai Mizuko. I currently serve as Investigation Squad Leader under the Police Bureau of the Ministry of Security of the People's Republic of Korea."
"Ah, I've heard of you. Ajisai of Jongno. That's right—I'd heard someone else would be coming besides the Vice Minister of Military Affairs, but I hadn't imagined she'd be a woman too. The way of the world is truly beyond fathoming. To think Korea has modernized to this degree."
"The two of us are nothing special," Hui-yeong said.
Hong Sa-ik gave no reply. He simply turned to the men he had brought with him and exchanged farewells. While the Minister of Military Affairs stepped aside for a moment, I approached Hui-yeong and spoke up.
"Don't be so hard on me. I'm still your direct superior, you know."
"I'm not being hard on you. I'm just being particular. There's nothing personal in it. It's just... formality is a question of legitimacy. Uniforms are no different. A man about to take a post no different from that of an Interior Minister of Korea, stepping onto Busan Port soil still wearing Japanese rank insignia—it reflects badly on the legitimacy of the state."
"You mean because he hasn't received a discharge order?"
"He's received a separate order from the Japanese government. From the Japanese military's perspective, Hong Sa-ik's appointment as Korea's Minister of Military Affairs is itself another military operation. And that operation is only concluded the moment he arrives safely in Keijo and receives his letter of appointment from Chairman Lyuh Woon-hyung. Which means, for the operation to hold, he must remain a Japanese soldier right up until he receives that letter. Otherwise, the military loses its authority to issue orders to Hong Sa-ik."
"So he's keeping his military status until then? That seems like a trivial matter. He'll just change clothes when he reaches Keijo, won't he? He's simply too principled as a soldier to gloss over the issue, but I'd think it would be better to let it slide as a minor technicality."
"Sister, did you ever receive official notification that you were formally dismissed from your patrolman post by the Japanese government?"
"No. I was just told to remain in Korea and report to the Government-General. I never got any explicit notice of dismissal."
"And your Japanese police uniform, then?"
"Folded up and shoved in the back of my closet. I doubt I'll ever wear it again."
"You took the transfer of your custody to the Government-General as, in effect, your notice of dismissal. I'd like you to show that same flexibility here. Whatever word games are being played, the order telling him to serve as Minister of Military Affairs is, in substance, a discharge order. I'd appreciate it if you'd interpret things in our favor—but you keep interpreting them in Japan's, and I don't like it. Charitably, you seem naive; less charitably, you seem hopelessly rigid."
I had a feeling that naive and rigid were both insults, but I chose not to point it out—the Minister of Military Affairs had finished his farewells and was already turning back toward us.
"Right, off you go. If a new government is waiting for you, then courtesy dictates they come first, doesn't it."
And so we escorted Hong Sa-ik safely to Busan Station. The train we boarded at Busan was neither an armored train nor an express, but an ordinary passenger steam locomotive. At least it wasn't a freight train—though honestly, I found myself thinking an express freight might have beaten an ordinary passenger one.
"With a protectee on board, no sleeping on the way there," Hui-yeong whispered to me, half in jest. I frowned and answered.
"You think I'm an idiot?"
"You got up unreasonably early today, so I just thought I'd mention it. I wasn't calling you an idiot."
The train's departure time fell barely an hour behind the ship's arrival, so we had to move quickly. In the chaos of a political situation where anything could happen anywhere, the Korean government and those of us guarding him were unwilling to let Hong Sa-ik linger in any one place for long.
At the station, Hui-yeong explained with a touch of theatrics.
"It's no armored train, no express—but this was the only option available, so we must apologize for the humble accommodations."
"Do they even run armored trains on the peninsula?"
"No. But we are the Ministry of Military Affairs—if the need arose, we could look into purchasing one."
Hong Sa-ik shook his head at her words.
"The task of a new nation's Ministry of Military Affairs, I should think, is to ensure armored trains are never needed. I know as much of the situation as I need to. What the cabinet expects of this man, I imagine, is not to prepare for war, but to find a way to prevent one."
Armored trains exist to guard against ambush and bombing in transit. If armored trains were ever running on the Korean peninsula, it would mean Korea had fallen into danger of being bombed. Not a good thing at all.
On the train, Hong Sa-ik turned to me.
"Ajisai... Squad Leader, was it?"
"You may simply call me Ajisai. I never changed my nationality. As I understand it, current law does not prohibit appointing foreign nationals to public office, which is how I came to hold my position."
That was probably because the People's Republic of Korea, in drawing up its laws, had kept in mind the possibility that it might actually have to import officials from abroad. And it wouldn't have been Japan alone they had in mind. China, or Russia—or America, if necessary...
Building a new state meant that even among the social activists who had labored for Korean independence, the friction ran far too deep. The reality of Korea was that anyone who could help found a nation had to be sought out and put to use.
"I understood Jongno Station to have a notorious reputation. That a policeman from that place would go on to serve the police of an independent Korea is a remarkable thing."
"...I'm fully aware that my circumstances are far from ordinary."
"Did you stay because you love this country? Or..."
"Personally, I quite like it here."
I had answered too quickly. Realizing I'd cut off the words of someone senior to me, I hurried to add:
"I had no intention of interrupting you. If you were about to say something further..."
"I was going to ask—or was it that Japan displeased you? Even if you couldn't quite bring yourself to abandon your nationality, I wondered whether something about the place rubbed you the wrong way, and that's why you ended up like this."
If I answered honestly, I would have to say I'd had very little freedom of choice. But if I were honest all the way down, it would be fairer to admit that I hadn't even made much of an attempt to run. Yes—I had accepted the situation quite quickly, and quite readily.
And not only because going from Senior Patrolman to Investigation Squad Leader was an enormous promotion.
"More than any of that... my colleagues looked promising. My colleagues at Jongno Police Station were poor quality. The chance to work alongside capable ones is something I found myself coveting."
Hui-yeong, apparently aware that the remark was about her, flushed faintly and turned her head away. Hong Sa-ik, for his part, seemed to sink into thought of his own.
"The Minister of Security would be General Kim Hong-il, who served under Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist army?"
"That's correct. I understand you never faced him in battle."
"Colonel Kim Seok-won in China, perhaps—but I... No, I've never fought that man. A pity, though. I'm well aware my record doesn't make me an ideal first Minister of Defense for a new nation. If it were the second such appointment, I'd take the post without much agonizing—but I do find myself thinking more than once that for the first, it might have been better left to someone like him. Would it be all right to ask where Minister Kim stands on my appointment?"
"The Minister of Security seems to harbor no particular feeling about it. What is decided cannot be undone, he says, and he hopes you will put the experience you built in the Japanese army to good use and contribute greatly to building the new republic's military."
"Is that his official position, or..."
"I believe he meant it sincerely. It's not that there are no problems, but he said that with matters already at this pass, the talents of anyone who can be used must be used."
"...That is a kindness."
For a long while after that, the new Minister of Military Affairs of Korea said nothing. The train kept moving.