Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Chapter 216 That Despicable Kitahara Iwa

At seven o'clock in the morning, the sky over Xiaguan was not yet fully bright.

In the Prime Minister's official residence's dining room, the lights were bright, the silver cutlery was neatly arranged, and the steam from the coffee slowly rose from the rim of the cup.

Several cabinet ministers, key officials from the Ministry of Finance, and staff responsible for external communications were sitting around a long table having breakfast.

The news that Kitahara Iwao won the Nobel Prize in Literature last night kept them up almost all night.

Although Kitahara Iwa's ruthless rejection call last night certainly caused the Imperial Household to lose face.

But after the initial shock and anger, the entire official residence system quickly switched to its most proficient operating method—whitewashing the situation.

The secretaries worked through the night to draft several versions of a press release to "save face."

One edition was titled: "Prime Minister congratulates Kitahara Iwao on winning the Nobel Prize in Literature; awarding process postponed due to unforeseen circumstances."

Another version is even more shameless: "The light of literature illuminates Japan; Kitahara Iwa postpones meeting with the President due to preparations for the Nobel Prize."

Once the first round of morning news broadcasts by various media outlets ends at 8:00 AM, the Imperial Household Agency will distribute these articles.

"As long as we act quickly enough and establish the narrative that the government is extending goodwill and writers need a break, last night's refusal to collect the money can be easily overlooked."

A cabinet minister, swaying his weary body from staying up all night, picked up his coffee and said, "For the past few months, overseas media have been focusing on our financial problems. If we just package the Kitahara Iwa award as a victory for Japan's soft power," public sentiment can be calmed down.

The aide in charge of publicity nodded repeatedly, saying, "That's right. We absolutely cannot let the public know that Kitahara Iwa refused because he was dissatisfied with the government, otherwise public opinion will get out of control."

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the restaurant.

The sound grew closer, its frantic activity completely out of step with the usual restraint within the official residence.

Several ministers who were having their meal frowned simultaneously.

With a bang, the restaurant door was pushed open.

The secretary was deathly pale and practically stumbled in.

He was clutching several newly delivered morning newspapers in his hand, the edges of which still smelled of fresh ink.

"Sir—"

The secretary's voice was strained, her breath coming in ragged gasps: "An article personally written by Kitahara Iwa! It's on the front page of every major newspaper—all of them!"

After saying this, the secretary placed the Yomiuri Shimbun and Asahi Shimbun on the dining table with trembling hands.

The bold, black font on the front page was so glaring it made one dizzy—"Reasons for Refusal".

The quiet conversations that had been taking place in the restaurant suddenly stopped.

Several hands simultaneously reached for the newspaper on the table, quickly scanning the text.

The cabinet ministers, who had just been planning how to appease public sentiment, visibly darkened their faces.

In particular, when he saw the sentence in the article, "If I were to turn around at this moment and accept the dazzling medal awarded by those in power—that would be tantamount to betraying those readers who turned the pages of my book in the wind and snow," the muscles at the corner of his eye twitched uncontrollably.

When his gaze finally fell on the concluding statement, "My pen should never become a beautiful embellishment used by any power to whitewash the truth and cover up the scars of society," his hand holding the coffee cup suddenly froze.

The cup paused in mid-air for a few seconds before crashing heavily back onto the coaster.

The spilled coffee dripped onto the pristine white tablecloth, spreading into an unsightly brown stain, but he remained completely oblivious.

At this moment, the huge restaurant was deathly quiet, with only heavy and suppressed breathing sounds remaining.

Just minutes before, the carefully polished press release was sitting on the table, ready to be sent to various media outlets.

But now, they've become waste paper.

The excuses prepared by the Cabinet Office for postponing the awarding of honors and for writers needing a break looked ridiculous and laughable on the front page of the newspapers.

Releasing those press releases now would only make the government a complete laughingstock.

This is no longer just a simple case of refusing to claim something.

This is a resounding slap in the face of Kasumigaseki, delivered by Kitahara Iwao to the world, telling these politicians: you are not worthy.

Finally, a conservative official couldn't hold back any longer and slammed the newspaper on the table.

"presumptuous!"

"Does he think that just because he won the Nobel Prize, he can humiliate the government like this?"

"Have the Metropolitan Police Department investigate immediately!"

"And the IRS!"

"His overseas royalties, film rights, and European income over the past few years have been so complicated; I simply don't believe there aren't any problems at all!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Kishimoto Kenjiro, sitting across the long table, looked up and chuckled, "Investigate him? Under what pretext?"

"We've checked before, but they couldn't find anything wrong with it."

Kishimoto Kenjiro shook his head and said, "If you dare touch a single tax bill of his today, Reuters and The New York Times will be in trouble tomorrow."

That could make cabinet scandals headline news worldwide.

"The Ministry of Finance is already struggling to deal with bad financial debts. Investigating a writer who just won the Nobel Prize at this time—are you trying to hand Western media ammunition and create an international scandal that the entire cabinet can't handle?"

The conservative officials' faces darkened, but they couldn't find any rebuttal.

Seeing the reaction of conservative officials, Takeo Kishimoto continued, "He is now not only Japan's Nobel laureate, but also a hero in the eyes of a nation full of resentment due to the economic recession."

"Pursuing him at this time would be tantamount to forcing the people and the cabinet into complete confrontation."

As soon as he finished speaking, the restaurant fell into a deathly silence.

No one mentioned retaliation or counterattack anymore.

Because all the politicians present were keenly aware that Kitahara Iwa had completely slipped out of their control.

The halo of a Nobel Prize in Literature, coupled with the public opinion of all Japanese readers, has made him an untouchable and unbreakable idol.

Even if these officials felt extremely aggrieved, they could only swallow their anger and resentment.

Subsequently, all the press releases originally scheduled to be issued by the Inner Palace were destroyed.

At the last minute before the regular press conference began, several revised press releases were hastily delivered to the Chief Cabinet Secretary.

As soon as the press conference began, a barrage of flashbulbs went off from the audience, and the reporters' questions were relentless: "Does the government consider Kitahara-sensei's statement to be an open protest against the Cabinet?"

Will the Prime Minister cancel the meeting?

How did the cabinet respond to the statement that "literature should not adorn power"?

Facing the camera, the Chief Cabinet Secretary maintained a composed expression, looked down at his newly revised speech, and read in an official and steady tone: "The government fully respects Mr. Kitahara Iwao's personal wishes."

"Mr. Kitahara's Nobel Prize for his outstanding literary achievements is a source of pride for the entire nation. The Cabinet expresses its understanding and admiration for his personal principle of upholding literary independence."

When he uttered the word "admiration," the Chief Cabinet Secretary's eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

At this time, the press conference was broadcast to all of Japan via television.

Meanwhile, many ordinary viewers in front of their televisions felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction as they watched the high-ranking officials on screen forcing smiles and desperately trying to save face for the government.

In a dimly lit izakaya (Japanese pub) even during the day, several middle-aged men, who had nowhere to go due to their company's bankruptcy, stared at the old television on the wall and couldn't help but sneer.

"Even the usually high and mighty men have their day."

A man drank the remaining wine in his glass in one gulp.

"It's so satisfying to see these bureaucrats so frustrated they're about to vomit blood but still forcing a smile."

The person next to him chimed in, "When they're issuing official documents from the Ministry of Finance and pressuring the banks to collect our debts, they don't act all timid and subservient like this."

The izakaya owner vigorously wiped the bar counter, looked up at the television screen, and said with a suppressed sense of satisfaction, "They turned the country's economy into ruins, drove everyone to the brink of despair, and now that Kitahara Iwa has won a world award, they want to bask in his glory and pat themselves on the back? Dream on, they don't deserve it!"

"That's right! If I were Kitahara-sensei, I would definitely give them a piece of my mind in the newspaper!"