Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

The cumulonimbus clouds overhead finally gave way, dumping a stifling night rain.

The lingering May chill rode in with the downpour, hammering the black car’s windows and shattering into countless winding rivulets.

A black sedan with no official markings glided along the slick road toward Bunkyo Ward.

In the back seat, the air felt frozen.

Hirano sat rigid on the leather, legs pressed together. He tugged at his silk tie, though it wasn’t tight. His fingertips came away damp with cold sweat.

He clutched a black briefcase to his chest. Inside were photocopied itineraries he’d secretly duplicated over the years, plus several micro-cassette tapes.

He glanced sideways at the current Prime Minister beside him.

”Your Excellency.”

Hirano’s voice sounded unnatural in the quiet car.

”Have you had any contact with the Saionji Family?”

Kaifu Toshiki kept his hands folded on his knees, eyes fixed on the back of the driver’s seat.

”...No.”

Kaifu kept his tone level. But Hirano’s peripheral vision caught the Prime Minister’s hands: ten fingers dug into the backs of his own hands, knuckles white from pressure, trembling slightly with the car’s vibration.

The sedan hit a puddle and jolted.

Hirano’s grip tightened on the briefcase.

”Then...” He swallowed, his voice shaking. ”Can our bargaining chips really make them agree to help us...”

”Nonsense! How would I know!”

Kaifu snapped, cutting him off.

Hirano flinched, staring at Kaifu in shock.

The Prime Minister usually played the ”nice guy,” never raising his voice. Hirano hadn’t expected this.

Seeing Hirano’s face go pale, Kaifu’s chest heaved twice. He drew in a breath of leather-scented air, and his shoulders slowly dropped.

”Apologies.”

Kaifu turned to the window, voice low.

”It’s just... I don’t have much certainty either.”

Only tire noise remained.

Silence stretched.

”Then why are you still...”

”After all, no one knows what those people are really thinking, do they?” Kaifu turned back to Hirano. ”Besides, we have no other choice.”

Kaifu studied him, then shifted topics.

”Do you know? Before the market started falling, the Saionji Family had already dumped most of their inferior land.”

His voice dropped, like he was afraid of waking something in the rainy night.

”Their industries came through almost untouched. It’s as if... they knew exactly when this disaster would hit. Not to mention their other moves before this. Almost prophetic.”

Hirano nodded, solemn.

”Right. When I worked for Old Osawa... Osawa Ichiro, I heard it too.” Cold sweat beaded on Hirano’s forehead again. ”The Saionji Family has a ’Witch’ who can see the future... Could it be true?”

”Who knows.”

Kaifu folded his hands on his knees and closed his eyes.

”Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter.”

”What matters is that they can save our lives.”

The car went silent again. Only the windshield wipers and the two men’s breathing filled the space as they rode toward Bunkyo Ward.

---

In the rainy night, the black sedan slowed, approaching the heavy cast-iron gate of the Saionji Main Residence.

This visit bypassed every Cabinet security log. It was a spur-of-the-moment, top-secret trip. They hadn’t even called ahead.

Kaifu straightened, finger on the window button, ready to lower the glass and identify himself to the guard.

The car was still a dozen meters out.

Hum—

With a faint electric whir, the two massive cast-iron gates parted in the rain without warning.

No guards stepped forward. The gatehouses on both sides were silent.

Kaifu’s finger froze on the button.

Hirano’s eyes went wide. He turned to Kaifu, horrified. They shared a look of pure confusion in the dim car.

”Your Excellency...” The driver tapped the brake, asking through the rearview mirror.

Kaifu inhaled and pulled his hand back.

”Drive in,” he said, keeping his tone steady.

The car rolled over the speed bump and into the dark courtyard.

It stopped smoothly under the side portico.

The old butler, Fujita, in a crisp black tailcoat, opened a huge black umbrella and opened the car door.

”The night rain is cold. Please watch your step.” Fujita bowed slightly, unhurried. ”The Family Head and the Eldest Young Lady have prepared hot tea in the tea room and have been waiting.”

Hirano paused mid-step out of the car. He looked at Kaifu.

This trip was last-minute and off the books. How could the Saionji Family know they were coming?

Kaifu drew in a breath of rain-cold air and forced the tremor from his expression.

”Sorry to trouble you,” Kaifu said, keeping his voice even.

”Please follow me.”

Fujita tilted the umbrella toward them.

Wind and rain lashed the ancient mansion, which radiated weight and age in the dark.

The two men followed Fujita down a corridor of cypress wood.

Fujita stopped before a shoji door marked ”Rain Gazebo.”

He folded the umbrella, placed his hands on his knees, bowed, and slid the door open.

Warm air and the scent of premium gyokuro tea flowed out.

The tea room was softly lit.

Saionji Shuichi wore a dark gray kimono, sitting upright in the seat of honor. His expression was solemn, hands flat on his knees.

At the main guest seat, Saionji Satsuki wore a plain house kimono, a dark silver-patterned obi at her waist.

She knelt quietly at the tea table. One slender, fair hand held a copper kettle. The other sleeve was rolled slightly. Boiling water poured into a purple clay tea pitcher.

Kaifu and Hirano removed their wet leather shoes at the door and stepped in wearing white tabi.

They moved to the guest seats with restraint, bowed, and sat.

Kaifu bowed his head slightly. By old etiquette, he should address Shuichi, the Family Head, first. But his eyes kept drifting to the girl quietly making tea.

He knew who held real power in this empire.

”Forgive our late-night intrusion.”

Kaifu put his hands on his knees, working to keep his voice steady.

”The matter is urgent. I want to apologize to the Saionji Family for the disturbance.”

Shuichi gave a slight nod.

”Your Excellency the Prime Minister, you are too kind. The wind and rain are heavy. Please have hot tea to warm yourself.”

Satsuki set down the kettle. She took two filled bone china cups and slid them across the rosewood table to Kaifu and Hirano.

”Thank you.”

Kaifu didn’t touch the tea.

He straightened, skipping the political preamble.

”Secretary-General Osawa has decided to abandon the current Cabinet. He intends to use me and Hirano-kun as scapegoats in the coming parliamentary storm.”

”This is... a small token of our sincerity.”

Kaifu looked at the table grain. He glanced at Hirano.

Hirano understood. Facing these two, he had to lead with something capital wanted.

He pushed his briefcase forward half an inch, unzipped it, and removed several photocopies and two micro-cassette tapes. He set them on the table with both hands.

”Miss Saionji, Mr. Shuichi.”

Hirano’s voice was tight.

”As Osawa Ichiro’s chief secretary, I have all itinerary records of his private, secret meetings with U.S. Economic Minister William. Further, to secure Washington’s political endorsement, Osawa privately promised to sell out our country’s interests regarding the Large-Scale Retail Store Law.”

Hirano swallowed, forcing himself to meet Satsuki’s eyes.

”On the table are copies and some daily recordings I kept privately over the years.”

He pressed his fists to his knees.

”The core details of Osawa’s deal with the Americans, plus originals with his handwritten signature and top-secret communication tapes, are in a safe in the second-floor study of Osawa’s private residence in Minato Ward.”

”If those originals are obtained, it’s enough to convict Osawa Ichiro of treason, both legally and in the court of public opinion.”

Hirano fell silent.

Kaifu leaned forward, hands on his knees, voice carrying desperate resolve.

”We are at the end of our rope. We come today with this sincerity, seeking asylum from the Saionji Family.”

Kaifu bowed his head—the head of state, in name.

”In exchange, we offer absolute loyalty.”

Hirano bowed deep beside him.

The tea room went silent.

Satsuki said nothing. She took a clean white tea towel and carefully wiped the droplets that had splashed on the table while pouring.

Her expression was calm. She wiped gently, as if keeping the tabletop clean mattered more than the Prime Minister in front of her.

Satsuki didn’t speak, and Shuichi in the seat of honor stayed silent too.

Kaifu and Hirano held their bowed positions, stiff.

The silver charcoal in the wind furnace popped faintly. The rustling of the tea towel on wood was loud in the dead-quiet room, scraping their nerves bit by bit.