Japanese Terrorist

On that day, Perhaps due to the approaching Japanese archipelago of the typhoon, clouds were swiftly streaming across the clear, almost piercing blue sky, and occasionally strong gusts of wind blew in.
Juri Inoue was, as usual, at Fukushima Station, delivering a speech to collect two million signatures from Fukushima Prefecture residents. Being at the station, the flow of people was constant. Yet, not a single person stopped to listen to her speech. It was an empty scene, her voice echoing into the void.
But, there was one person, standing about twenty or thirty steps away, wearing a navy blue hoodie, the hood drawn snugly over their head, right hand tucked in the hoodie pocket, left hand steadying a red mountain bike, listening to her speech — a high school girl.
 
"When speaking of the Chief Cabinet Secretary, it's a figure at the core of the government. In a press conference, he mentioned that 'Fukushima is currently suffering from harmful rumors, fighting against these harmful rumors.' He criticized manga created solely from imagination by saying 'what kind of thing is this?' This cliché expression is a kind of political jargon often used by politicians. It's a way of speaking as if seeking the other party's opinion, but this kind of thing is absolutely intolerable, a message that firmly opposes and should be strictly regulated. That became the case; a tremendous backlash ensued. 'Ban the publication of that manga,' 'immediately retrieve the manga,' this campaign is still exerting immense pressure. At first glance, this campaign appears to support Fukushima, protecting its agriculture, fisheries, dairy farming, tourism, commerce, and industries from harmful rumors. However, it's not until I point it out that it becomes evident to everyone. This campaign is a clever political tactic to put an end to the nuclear disaster and to phase out compensation for the nuclear disaster."
Please note that translations may lose some nuances or context inherent to the original language.
 
"When Fukushima Prefecture's products are sent to the market, they are bought at 20%, 30%, and 40% less. If the market price for these products is 1,000 yen, Fukushima's goods are bargained down to 700 yen, 600 yen, and 500 yen before finally being released to the market. There's hardly any profit. This is referred to as 'harmful rumors.' This discrimination is created by harmful rumors, and that's why campaigns to protect Fukushima from harmful rumors are necessary. However, is this really caused by harmful rumors? It's been four years since the nuclear accident. Stringent quality control, especially rigorous checks for radiation levels, are being conducted before the products are sent to the market. Nevertheless, these situations persist."
 
"Is this born from harmful rumors? No, it isn't. This is a very natural occurrence emerging from the principles of the market, the rules of trade, or rather, it arises from the ordinary economic activities. Fukushima's products don't sell; consumers don't buy Fukushima's products. Why don't they sell? Why don't consumers buy them? It's because Fukushima was heavily contaminated with radioactive substances. It's because a massive amount of radiation is still present, untouched. This is what creates the reality where Fukushima's products are discriminated against and unsellable, no matter how much the prices are discounted. The so-called 'harmful rumors campaign' is designed to conceal this truth. The fact remains that Fukushima's products need to be discounted by 20-30% to sell, and this policy seeks to shift the reality of Fukushima's land being contaminated by the nuclear accident to something called 'harmful rumors.'"
 
"Under the current nuclear damage compensation law, regardless of fault, power companies are obligated to provide unlimited compensation according to the extent of the damage caused by a nuclear accident. However, the government is presently attempting to eliminate this provision. This movement has already become a reality, and compensation is being terminated one after another. Compensation for business losses is also soon to be cut off. Evacuated areas are also being gradually lifted from evacuation orders. When these areas are lifted, it means that compensation to the evacuated individuals will be terminated at that point.
Currently, the government and TEPCO (Tokyo Electric Power Company) are aiming to terminate all compensation for the nuclear accident. They claim that the country has already spent enormous national funds for nuclear accident compensation, fulfilling the responsibility that the nation should bear. They propose ending all compensation as part of this policy, utilizing the concept of 'harmful rumors' to advocate for this policy. This is not only a campaign to silence us, but it's also a campaign to conceal the truth: 'Don't peek at the facts, don't speak the truth, don't write the facts, don't capture the truth, conceal the truth.' This is to seal the lid on the nuclear accident; it's a directive to keep the lid shut."
 
"I was a newspaper journalist until October of last year. I infiltrated the nuclear power plant where earnest decommissioning work continues, and I visited the evacuation areas many times. I lived in temporary housing and met with those living there. Additionally, I met people who evacuated to areas outside the prefecture, extending to various parts of Japan. I visited some of these areas, writing about what I covered, saw, heard, felt, and wanted to convey. I wrote about how the catastrophic nuclear explosion has been causing suffering and how we are confronting it. This was the editorial policy of the 'Fukushima Shimbun.' However, about a year ago, that editorial policy began to waver. Articles about the nuclear accident gradually decreased, pushed to the sidelines, and at times, they were deleted or discarded. This was due to a shift in editorial policy."
 
"When it came to writing articles related to the nuclear accident, we were told to focus on brighter topics. Articles began to shift towards narratives about Fukushima steadily moving forward towards recovery, escaping hardships, and walking towards a brighter tomorrow. It became all about such articles. The truth could no longer be written. Decommissioning work at the nuclear power plant and measures for contaminated water have been a series of setbacks. Nearly one trillion yen has already been spent on developing various facilities, but they've been mostly failing. Facts such as the high obesity rates among Fukushima's children, the increased incidence of thyroid cancer, the deteriorating health, both physical and mental, of evacuees leading to a spate of suicides, are no longer allowed to be written about as before.
Even if the evacuation zones are lifted, only a fraction, barely 20%, of the residents are returning, mostly the elderly. This indicates that the villages and towns are far from any form of reconstruction. Writing about how deeply the nuclear accident has left its mark on Fukushima has been prohibited."
 
"My relationship with the Fukushima Shimbun gradually became more difficult, and it ultimately became definitive during the nosebleed incident. I wrote an article explaining that 'harmful rumors' were a tactic to put an end to the nuclear disaster. Instead of simply rejecting this opinion piece, the company reached a point where they couldn't tolerate me anymore and decided to exile me to a subsidiary advertising company. I thought the battle within Fukushima Shimbun had reached its limit, so I resisted this personnel decision and left Fukushima Shimbun in October of last year. It's not because I lost the battle with the company, but it's because I made a decision to step forward into what I and we must do, what Fukushima must do now."
 
"The entire Fukushima Prefecture has been contaminated with radioactive substances. The material and mental damages we've suffered are immeasurable. We demand that the government and TEPCO pay each of the two million residents in Fukushima a monthly compensation of 100,000 yen from the day the nuclear accident occurred. We demand that this compensation be paid until the day radioactive materials disappear from Fukushima."
 
I, along with a few colleagues, crafted this voice that Fukushima must convey and attempted to have it published in the Fukushima Shimbun. I proposed spreading this voice as the mission of Fukushima Shimbun to the people of the prefecture. However, it was rejected. They said such a thing could never be realized. They claimed that engaging in such a fanciful campaign would destroy Fukushima Shimbun. They stated that it would be akin to showering Fukushima, which is finally recovering from the nuclear accident, with radiation again. However, this idea never faded from my mind. When the decision for my exile was made, it resurfaced within me. Isn't this the work assigned to you? Isn't this the work that you, not just as a journalist, but as a human being, must step forward to accomplish?"
 
"And now, what they've initiated is the 'harmful rumors expulsion campaign.' At first glance, it appears to be a campaign to rescue Fukushima Prefecture. However, the true nature of this campaign is a signal that the government has fulfilled its responsibility towards the nuclear disaster and is a signal to completely terminate compensation for the nuclear disaster. The government must certainly believe that all the policies they've rolled out to deal with the nuclear accident have been successful. They think it's a great success to terminate the compensation for such a massive disaster in just three or four years. However, we didn't comply with the measures the government rolled out. In fact, we saw through the deceitful nature of those measures. Whether it's risk communication or decontamination, these superficial measures cannot save Fukushima from this massive disaster. These measures seem to have been rolled out to cover up the nuclear disaster. Yet, we haven't raised our voices in anger, we haven't organized significant demonstrations to protest. We've endured almost silently, sinking in our dissent. This is because we've created three laws."
 
"Asserting one's own opinion as correct hurts the other person. Accepting the other person's opinion as correct hurts oneself.
Forcing a false identification leads to mutual suffering."
 
"By these three logics, three pieces of wisdom, and three truths, we continue to sink into silence. With these three sources of wisdom, we endure this tragedy and strive to overcome this enormous disaster. But is this the right path? Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) has already reported significant profits in operating income. Despite causing such a massive catastrophe, TEPCO stands tall as if nothing has happened. For Japan and its people, the nuclear accident has become a thing of the past, and the incident is gradually fading from memory. Fukushima Prefecture is currently at a critical juncture. Will we continue to bury this great disaster in silence, adhering to these three words, these three wisdoms? Or will we rise above these three words, these three wisdoms, and take a new step forward? We stand at the edge of this decision."
 
"I have risen with the banner stating, 'We demand that the government and TEPCO pay each of the two million residents in Fukushima a monthly compensation of 100,000 yen from the day the nuclear accident occurred, and we demand that this compensation be paid until the day radioactive materials disappear from Fukushima.' I am currently leading a signature campaign, seeking more supporters. I'm not seeking ten thousand or twenty thousand, but a million, two million signatures of people. Some say this is a pipe dream, an impractical fight. They argue that it's a base fight, merely asking for money from the government and TEPCO. They claim that such an endeavor won't heal the mental and physical pressure we're enduring. They insist that initiating this action will degrade our spirits and deteriorate our minds. But is that so? Is this fight a base act? Will this struggle deteriorate our spirits?"
 
"We have a guiding text, it's Minamata. Minamata is a sea, a town where a major corporation named Chisso released factory wastewater into the beautiful sea of Minamata. As a result, Minamata disease emerged. However, the corporation refused to acknowledge any responsibility. Doctors, scholars, and university hospitals declared there was no cause-and-effect relationship. Yet, the patients cautiously rose. They claimed that the factory wastewater was the culprit of Minamata disease and began a fight to hold them accountable and seek compensation. At that time, those who fiercely attacked this fight were the citizens of Minamata. 'Don't tarnish the town of Minamata. Do you intend to destroy Minamata?' They blamed the patients' illnesses on their own degraded way of life, claiming they were trying to extort money by blaming Chisso. That voice wasn't just from the people of Minamata but echoed from people across Japan. The fight that was started by just a dozen or so individuals was like ants facing off against an elephant."
 
"The patients who stood up were crushed under the feet of that giant elephant time and again. But even when crushed, they rose up again and continued to face it. And what was the result? Chisso could no longer release wastewater from their factory into the sea. The sea of Minamata was protected. The citizens of Minamata were rescued through their fight. It wasn't just Minamata; at that time, Japan was a country often referred to as the 'Island of Pollution.' The skies were covered in smog, and on clear days, there was no blue sky. People lived inhaling exhaust fumes. Not only from factories, but even the sewage from homes was poured into rivers. The rivers became sludge-filled, and living by those rivers meant people were warned not to eat fish caught from them. That was life. At that time, there was no concept of pollution in Japan or the world."
 
The small legal battle initiated by just a few dozen people was a fight for compensation. However, that battle was not just about seeking damages; it was a fight to prevent the emergence of more, larger-scale Minamata disease patients. It was a fight to revive Japan's rivers that turned into polluted streams and its seas that turned into mud seas.
Japan has over fifty nuclear power plants, and there are hundreds more worldwide, with further constructions underway. These nuclear power plants suddenly appeared in the latter half of the 20th century, constructed to improve people's lives and society. However, when accidents occur, the livelihoods of tens of thousands, if not millions, are entirely disrupted, villages and towns disappear, and it becomes a monster that can even collapse entire nations. The demands we raise high now are a battle to sound the alarm in Japan and the world. This fight is to prevent such large-scale disasters from ever happening again worldwide………
 
Her speech was interrupted when she was stabbed to death by a high school student who was listening to her speech while wearing the hood of a navy blue hoodie. Kurumi Uehara was a kendo master who had been attending a dojo since she was in elementary school. That's why that blow accurately pierced Inoue Juri's heart. The speech that no one was listening to, the words that were just scattering in vain into the sky, were like blood flowing into the earth. She pulled out the dagger she had stabbed from Juri's collapsed body, got on her  red mountain bike as if nothing had happened, rode it to Watari Ohashi Bridge, and threw herself into the Abukuma River from the bridge's railing. Her body was discovered three days later by a fishing boat. She was released from the Abukuma River and found herself floating in the Pacific Ocean. Emails were typed out to several of her friends.
 
The words are corrupted and quickly sinking into the depths of mud. I became an assassin to eternally inscribe into history the words that people should confront. To save the decay of democracy, there must be an assassin for every person killed - Jupiter.
Before Kurumi threw herself off the railing, she placed the backpack she had on her back next to the red bicycle. Inside the bag was a small book entitled "Jupiter."