Kenichi Banno still paints his fighter in bright pink or yellow to this day, and he loves emblazoning various cute and cuddly characters where all can see them. Though the smart paint shifts to more suitable patterns if he is forced into a fight. The various tools he uses are similarly designed to look like anything but a weapon. His suits are… loud and proud. He’s gone through every pastel shade over the years. He’s done bell-bottoms and Miami Vice jackets. You name it. If it’s loud, and gets attention, he’s tried it. He wants everybody to see him coming so no one thinks he’s trying to sneak up on them. He walks up and tries to get people to agree to be peaceful. He doesn’t want to fight them. Anyone with a brain wouldn’t want to fight him. But in the end, there are always people who choose poorly, and Ken will deal with them if they give him no other choice.
Ken Banno has never told us how many of his people he brought home after War’s End. It would be a loss of honor to advertise them. But we know hundreds of thousands slowly returned to Los Angeles after the Empress rebuilt it. Some admitted to having fought, and publicly surrendered a ceremonial weapon on the steps of her palace. Most returned with some story about sheltering in Texas, Dixie, or New England, and their friends, families, and neighbors pretended to believe them. It would be a loss of face and honor on both sides to question their stories. Ken Banno never surrendered a weapon. He never returned to his old life. He remains a Cowboy to this day, serving the Empress as her personal representative to our organization.
When I was young, we celebrated George Washington’s Birthday today. I remember it well, and I remember when the school’s stopped celebrating it in favor of Presidents’ Day. I miss celebrating George Washington today, and Abraham Lincoln in the near future. But that is the way of things when people believe we live in a zero-sum world where the only way to represent some people is to take away representation from other people. I do not believe that, which is why I personally still celebrate both George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.
We really don’t know how many New Japanese fought in The War. The Los Angeles census was badly mangled when Yosemite turned the entire city into a crater. We know millions died, but millions more survived. Best estimates suggest that as many as several hundred thousand survivors took the opportunity to just disappear so they could volunteer to fight under false identities without bringing shame on their families. Ken Banno was not one of them. He accepted the dishonor of war in public, for all to see. And after War’s End, he spent decades traveling throughout known space, hunting down the scattered survivors. He tracked down those who lived in self-imposed exile, bringing them letters from home, and helping them come to terms with what they had done. Helping them live with it, and bringing them home again.
The Japanese Defense Force could not go to War. It was not in their cute and friendly nature, so Ken Banno and those who followed him volunteered to join the American military. Most followed their Japanese traditions of painting their weapons in cute colors. Ken often had some pretty anime pop idol, a smiling Pokemon, or some other utterly ridiculously cute and brightly colored thing painted on his fighter. And he usually based his fighter or weapons in bright pink or yellow, just to drive home the point that he was a warrior against his better nature. There was one thing in all that time that he demanded of the American military. Something it never would have considered if he had not spoken up. The American military kept the records of their Japanese volunteers sealed against all requests. Ken wanted his people to be able to return home without their deeds being known to all.
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