Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

Parliament House. Outside the House of Representatives Steering Committee room.

Forty-eight hours had passed since the brawl over the repeal of the Large-Scale Retail Store Law.

Today, the corridor held a restless, eerie tension.

Several young, radical members of the Osawa Faction clustered at the hallway corner.

Katsuya Tsunetaka gripped his heavy black mobile phone. He stabbed the redial button again, but the receiver gave the same dead, mechanical tone.

He snapped the antenna down. His breathing came ragged.

”It won’t go through,” Katsuya said through gritted teeth. Cold sweat ran from his forehead into the collar of his expensive shirt. ”The secretary-general’s private landline and encrypted lines are dead. Chief Secretary Hirano’s pager — no response. It’s like they vanished.”

Beside him, senior lawmaker Hasegawa pulled out a cotton handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

”What about media? What do the editors at Yomiuri and Asahi say?” Hasegawa kept his voice low. He couldn’t hide the panic.

”They’re refusing calls,” Katsuya said, swallowing. ”Every media executive we control went deaf this morning. Our PR guy ran to the newspaper building himself. Couldn’t get past the security turnstiles.”

Hasegawa crumpled the agenda in his hand. The paper edges bent out of shape.

”The Cabinet bypassed all communication and submitted an emergency bill straight to the Steering Committee. The agenda’s been forced through.” Hasegawa’s eyes flickered. ”What’s going on? What is that puppet, Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu, doing?”

Before he finished —

Bang.

The heavy oak double doors were shoved open from inside. The brass handle slammed the wall bumper with a dull thud.

The murmurs in the corridor died.

Several old members of the Commerce and Industry Caucus stepped out. Their suits were wrinkled. Their bruised faces showed undisguised triumph.

The elder at the front stopped.

He turned, eyes sweeping the corridor, and looked at the Osawa Faction members in the corner with pure contempt. He straightened his crooked tie, winced at the bruise on his cheek, and smiled wider.

”Get to the plenary hall, young men.”

”Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu just submitted a ’Request for Permission to Arrest House of Representatives Member Osawa Ichiro’ to the Steering Committee in the name of the Cabinet.” The old lawmaker sneered. ”The committee passed it unanimously. Plenary vote starts now.”

His laughter, thick with revenge, echoed down the long corridor.

Katsuya froze like he’d been hit.

His breath stopped. His legs went weak. He stumbled back a step, his back hitting the wall with a heavy thud.

”Arrest... request?”

Katsuya’s eyes shook. He stared at the dead phone in his hand.

”Is Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu insane?! By what right does the Special Investigation Department bypass Parliament to arrest someone directly!”

Before he finished —

Bang.

The Steering Committee door opened again.

A recording clerk squeezed out, sweating, clutching a thick stack of documents. His tie was crooked. He hurried along the wall toward the stairs like he was running from plague.

Hasegawa lunged. He grabbed the clerk’s arm.

”What the hell is going on!”

Hasegawa yanked the clerk to a stop. His voice was low and sharp. Veins bulged on his forehead.

”What’s in the Special Investigation Department’s case file! Why did it pass unanimously!”

The clerk winced. He struggled, terrified of Hasegawa’s face.

”Let go... Lawmaker Hasegawa!” The clerk’s voice trembled. ”The Special Investigation Department’s evidence... went straight to the Cabinet!”

He swallowed.

”They’re all originals... they say Secretary-General Osawa seriously violated the Political Funds Control Act... took huge amounts of illicit foreign capital, and... sold out the nation’s underlying economic secrets!”

Hasegawa’s grip loosened a fraction. The clerk yanked his arm free and bolted down the stairs.

The corridor went dead silent.

Only the faint hum of the central air conditioning.

Hasegawa stood frozen.

He looked down at the dead mobile phone in Katsuya’s hand.

The media lines dead this morning.

Washington’s statement delayed.

Chief Secretary Hirano vanished.

And... Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu’s sudden steel spine, plus ”ironclad evidence” submitted with the case file.

At this moment, the once-powerful secretary-general, and all his communications, were cut off.

Osawa Ichiro’s political base was hollow. A shell.

This wasn’t coincidence. Only one explanation: major capital had stepped in.

”Senior Hasegawa!” Katsuya gasped, grabbing Hasegawa’s arm. ”Our Osawa Faction holds the majority in Parliament! If we all vote no in plenary, we can kill the arrest permit! We can’t let the secretary-general be arrested!”

Hasegawa spun, bloodshot eyes locked on Katsuya.

He grabbed Katsuya by the lapels and yanked the younger lawmaker close.

”Vote no? With what will you kill it!” Hasegawa’s spit hit Katsuya’s face. His growl rumbled in his throat.

”The citizens outside want to tear down Parliament over the crash and the retail law repeal! The Special Investigation Department has evidence he sold out national interests!” Hasegawa shoved Katsuya back, pointing toward the plenary hall.

”Don’t you get it? This was planned!”

”Once the Special Investigation Department makes that evidence public, if we vote no, the media and public will brand us ’traitors’ accomplices’! Our voters will tear us apart! Next election, we’ll crawl home to farm!”

Katsuya froze, face white as paper.

He looked at the other faction members around him. All terrified. A politician’s instinct — survival over loyalty — crushed any devotion to their old leader.

Hasegawa drew a breath. His shaking fingers straightened his suit.

”When the wall falls, everyone pushes.”

”The game’s over. Cut all ties with Osawa Ichiro.”

”We... vote for the arrest.”

House of Representatives plenary hall.

The giant exhaust fans in the dome hummed. More than five hundred lawmakers filed in.

The hall buzzed like a kicked hornets’ nest. Whispers between seats built into a restless roar. The rumors from the corridor had every nerve on edge.

Commerce and Industry Caucus lawmakers whispered, excitement barely contained. The Osawa Faction section radiated panic and fear.

On the large screen at the front, the image flickered.

Request for Permission to Arrest House of Representatives Member Osawa Ichiro.

The hall erupted when the bold black text appeared.

”It was actually submitted...”

”The Special Investigation Department’s file is with the Speaker!”

On the high platform, the Speaker raised his gavel and brought it down on the brass pad, forcing the boiling room quiet.

”Now. We will proceed to a standing and button vote on the ’Request for Permission to Arrest House of Representatives Member Osawa Ichiro.’”

The moment he finished —

An old lawmaker with a bruise by his eye shot up, bracing on the table. He gritted his teeth, made a fist, and slammed his index finger onto the green ’approve’ button.

”Arrest him! Arrest that bastard!”

The shout lit the powder keg.

In the Commerce and Industry Caucus section, dozens of lawmakers pushed chairs back and stood. They hit the buttons without hesitation.

Green lights for ’approve’ lit up across the left side. The glare merged into one block.

Hasegawa sat in the middle of the Osawa Faction section.

He heard his colleagues breathing fast. He looked at the green glow opposite.

The game was over. Fighting was pointless.

He closed his eyes and moved his trembling right hand to the green button beside him.

He pressed it. Beep.

In the Osawa Faction section, green lights spread like a silent plague. Row by row. The green merged into one shocking block.

The numbers on the electronic vote counter jumped.

”Approve votes, over two-thirds absolute majority!”

The Speaker raised the solid wood gavel. He swung it in a semicircle.

Bang!

Wood hit brass.

The sharp crack rang through the speakers.

It declared the end of the political life of the secretary-general who once ruled Nagatacho.