Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

Monday, November 12, 1990.

Utsubohonmachi, Nishi Ward, Osaka.

The editorial department of the Kansai Financial Journal was located on the third floor of a grayish-white office building built in the Showa 40s (1965-1974).

At 9:27 AM, when Deputy Editor-in-Chief Masato Sakai pushed open the glass door of the editorial department, he happened to see two young editors from the typesetting group huddled around the fax machine, their expressions looking somewhat off.

The fax machine was quietly spitting out paper.

White thermal paper slowly slid from the output tray, printed with lines of slightly blurry black text.

Sakai placed his briefcase on the desk and asked with a frown, ”Which company is demanding a correction this time?”

The young editor looked up, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

”Chief, it is from Kyoto.”

Sakai’s frown deepened.

”Which one in Kyoto?”

The young editor did not answer immediately, but simply handed over the fax paper he had just torn off.

Sakai took the paper, his gaze falling on the letterhead.

Ippodo Tea Co.

His fingers paused slightly.

This was no ordinary advertiser.

A long-established Kyoto brand like Ippodo was not known for its advertising spend in the Kansai business community, and indeed never needed to rely on financial magazines to maintain its reputation.

However, the old lineage connections, personal relationships, and Kyoto business credit attached to such shops were far more troublesome than a single page of color advertising.

The content of the fax was extremely brief.

In the article ”The Hunt of Tokyo Capital” published in your esteemed journal on November 10th, the Saionji family was referred to as ”Tokyo Capital.” This phrasing may not be entirely appropriate. The Saionji family was formerly known as Kitayama, inheriting the lineage of the Seiga family, and has deep historical ties with Kyoto. We hope your journal will carefully consider this in future writings.

At the bottom of the letterhead, only a neat shop seal was quietly pressed onto the paper.

Sakai stared at the seal for a few seconds, and the slight irritation that had flared up in his heart this morning quietly subsided.

He had originally thought that the first call would come from Tokyo.

The Saionji family’s lawyers, Saionji Industrial’s public relations department, or some arrogant young legal specialist.

According to the worst-case scenario estimated by the editorial department last night, the other party would send a content-certified mail on the grounds of defamation, factual inaccuracies, or malicious insinuation, and then use an application for a provisional disposition from the Tokyo District Court to pressure the magazine into retracting the article.

They had already prepared their talking points.

The article did not name the Saionji family.

The article was merely discussing Kansai’s industrial autonomy.

The term ”Tokyo capital” used in the article was just a macro-financial phenomenon.

These arguments were safe.

Safe enough for Tokyo’s lawyers, at least.

However, Kyoto was not talking about the law with them.

Kyoto only corrected a designation.

The Saionji family should not be called Tokyo capital.

This point was far more difficult to handle than any defamation lawsuit.

The telephone on the desk suddenly rang.

The female receptionist at the switchboard poked her head out, her voice slightly tense.

”Deputy Editor Sakai, a call from Kyoto. The caller says they are from the Kuga family’s Steward’s Office.”

Several reporters in the editorial department who were sorting through drafts looked up almost simultaneously.

Sakai’s heart skipped a beat.

The Kuga family.

Although not one of the Five Regent Houses, they still possessed extremely deep connections within Kyoto’s old Kazoku circles.

More importantly, just a few days ago, someone from the Hakusuikai had hinted that Kyoto was not a monolith, and that certain old lineages did not reject the goodwill extended by the Osaka financial community.

Sakai walked quickly to his desk and picked up the receiver.

”This is Sakai, Deputy Editor of the Kansai Financial Journal.”

From the other end of the line came the steady, almost cold voice of a middle-aged man.

”Mr. Sakai, excuse the intrusion. I am Matsunaga from the Steward’s Office of the Kuga family.”

Sakai unconsciously straightened his back and leaned slightly forward.

”Hello, Mr. Matsunaga.”

”My master has read your journal’s recent article. Regarding the issues of industrial autonomy and financial credit, it is only natural for financial media to express their own views.”

”However, placing the Saionji family in the position of foreign capital in the article seems to lack basic historical research.”

Matsunaga spoke very slowly, with a thick Kyoto accent.

”The Saionji family’s historical ties to Kitayama predate the accountants of Osaka’s Senba by several centuries. If we are to speak of Kansai’s rules from a historical perspective, I am afraid it is not the turn of Kitahama’s bankers to define things for Kyoto, is it?”

Sakai’s fingers tightened slightly around the receiver.

The other party had not uttered a single swear word, yet that thick Kyoto accent combined with a sarcastic undertone invariably provoked a sudden surge of anger in him.

Yet the other party maintained a completely unruffled, polite tone, and did not even demand that they retract the article.

”...Mr. Matsunaga, regarding the phrasing in the article, we will re-verify it internally.”

”Then we shall trouble your journal to do so.”

The call was gently disconnected.

Sakai slowly put down the receiver, his gaze sweeping across the editorial department.

The air was unusually quiet.

Several young editors pretended to keep their heads down to read drafts, but their ears were clearly perked up.

Just as Sakai was about to speak, another telephone rang.

The head of the advertising department rushed straight out of the adjacent office, his face already very pale.

”Chief Sakai, the Kyoto Chamber of Commerce and Industry has canceled their full-page advertisement for next month.”

Sakai looked up at him.

The advertising director grit his teeth and flipped open his notebook.

”The reason for cancellation was written very politely, claiming some sort of budget adjustment. But they added over the phone that it is inconvenient for them to be involved in Osaka’s public controversies at this time.”

Osaka’s side.

These words made the temperature in the editorial department feel as if it had been instantly sucked out.

Ever since its founding, their magazine had been rooted in Kansai finance.

Usually, they wrote about Osaka, Kobe, and Kyoto, collectively referring to them as Kansai, and readers had never found anything amiss with that.

But this morning, Kyoto, in an alternative way, dismantled this broad term once again.

Kyoto is Kyoto.

Osaka is Osaka.

The bankers of Kitahama cannot represent Kansai.

Sakai looked down at the newly drafted topic plan for the next issue on his desk.

The cover feature still used the originally designed title.

[The Hunt of Tokyo Capital, Part II: The Risk of Industrial Credit Being Hijacked by External Channels]

This line of text on the paper now looked like a red-hot iron plate.

At 9:54 AM, the advertising department’s phone rang again.

At 10:03 AM, a long-established textile enterprise in Kyoto canceled their year-end interview, stating it was inconvenient to associate with a publication in dispute with their largest customer. (The Saionji family controls the Nishijin-ori technology.)

At 10:11 AM, the university professor who was scheduled to publish a signed commentary in coordination with the second feature called to say he was feeling unwell recently and needed to postpone his draft.

At 10:19 AM, a deputy director in charge of public relations at the Bank of Kyoto sent word through private connections, stating that Kyoto financial institutions found it inconvenient to take any stance on ”the regional controversies of certain Osaka media.”

At 10:26 AM, a similar message came from the Kyoto Shinkin Bank, with even more cautious phrasing, saying only that local finance should be based on steadily serving the real economy and would not participate in pointless, labeling-based disputes.

At 10:40 AM, the most fatal call came from the printing plant.

The other party tactfully inquired whether the next issue’s cover feature would still be typeset as planned, as several advertising clients had requested to see the final sample copy before deciding whether to make payments.

Sakai stood by the window, watching the traffic below, his face turning increasingly grim.

Tokyo did not strike back.

The Saionji family did not even issue a statement, let alone write any rebuttal articles to trade insults with them, or have lawyers come to the door.

They had simply made an appearance in Kyoto.

And then, the entire Kansai public opinion sphere, which had originally been mobilized by the Hakusuikai, began to collapse on its own from the edges like a sheet of paper soaked in rainwater.

And they did not even have the qualification to meet the Saionji family.

Kitashinchi, Osaka.

In the eight-tatami-mat room on the second floor of the ”Chikufu” ryotei, the iron kettle on the charcoal brazier was making a gentle boiling sound.

Uragami Masaaki sat kneeling on the tatami mats, a brief report just delivered from the Hakusuikai secretariat placed on the low table in front of him.

Yasui sat on the right, his face even more somber than usual.

Umeba kept his eyes lowered, his gaze falling in front of his knees, and had not taken the initiative to speak.

Kubota, who was responsible for taking minutes, sat near the sliding paper door, the Hakusuikai’s dedicated meeting minutes paper spread out before him, with that black fountain pen still resting by his hand.

The briefing was very thin.

Just three pages.

Yet after Uragami finished reading it the first time, he did not flip to the next document for a long time.

Silence stretched in the room for a long time.

Yasui finally spoke in a low voice.

”The reaction from Kyoto was faster than expected.”

Uragami did not look at him.

”It is not just a matter of being fast.”

He laid the three pages flat on the low table, his index finger gently pressing against the edge.

”They are... setting a trap for us.”

Umeba looked up.

”The Kujo family?”

Uragami did not answer immediately.

Steam from the iron kettle slowly rose from the spout, and the white mist dispersed above the charcoal fire like an extremely thin veil.

”The old matriarch of the Kujo family has rejected our people four consecutive times.” Uragami’s voice was steady, betraying no emotion. ”The manager of Ippodo, a house steward, and a director of the Kyoto Chamber of Commerce and Industry all spoke out in succession on the same morning.”

He slowly raised his eyes.

”That is the most troublesome part.”

Yasui’s fingers curled slightly against his knees.

If the old Kyoto lineages had openly stood up to speak for the Saionji family, the Hakusuikai would actually have ways to deal with it.

They could say the old Kazoku were out of touch with reality, that the court noble families did not understand industrial finance, that this was merely a residual echo of historical sentiment in modern business, or even that it was an irrational move.

But Kyoto did not give them such a target.

Kyoto merely gently corrected the designation according to the rules.

The Saionji family is an old family of Kitayama.

Osaka’s Kitahama has no right to define who is an outsider for Kansai.

You could call them ”Tokyo capital,” which indeed is not wrong; the core of the Saionji family is indeed in Tokyo.

But can you say the Saionji family is an outsider?

No matter from which angle you look at it, you cannot characterize the Saionji family as an ”outsider.”

Since they are not ”outsiders,” they are ”our own.”

In that case, what is wrong with the capital of our own people coming to Kansai to conduct some business activities?

Look, even the Sumitomo main family has not said anything, so what is the Hakusuikai so anxious about?

Once this sentiment took hold, half of the public opinion framework that the Hakusuikai had meticulously constructed over the past few days collapsed.

Uragami had originally designed it very clearly.

What the presidents of Kansai manufacturing companies feared most was not a lawyer’s letter from Tokyo’s legal department, nor the US dollar letters of credit from Saionji Trading, but rather the soft pressure jointly formed by local chambers of commerce, regional banks, relatives by marriage, and industry seniors.

A person could bypass a bank on a contract, but it was very difficult to bear the cold shoulders of the entire local society at banquets, funerals, board meetings, year-end greetings, and family wedding feasts.

Therefore, he played the regional card.

Tokyo capital. Foreign hunting. Destroying Kansai’s long-term credit.

These terms carried no legal risk, yet they were enough to make manufacturing executives like Uchida, Kawaguchi, and Hashimoto hesitate.

But Satsuki did not enter the battlefield he had designed.

She did not send Tokyo media to trade insults, nor did she have lawyers go after the article’s wording.

She went to Kyoto.

And then, the old Kyoto lineages used a higher level of order to suppress the regional narrative of Osaka’s Kitahama.

Yasui said in a low voice, ”The editorial department is already in chaos. The second feature has not been retracted yet, but several commentators are demanding to revise their drafts, unwilling to continue using the term ’Tokyo capital.’ Since the Kyoto advertisers withdrew their orders, some people in Kobe are also taking a wait-and-see attitude.”

Umeba’s face looked very grim.

”If we continue to publish the second piece, will not the risk be too high?”

Yasui glanced at him but did not answer.

The risk was naturally high.

Yasui flipped open another thin fax, his voice even lower than before.

”Over in Kyoto, yesterday afternoon the Kujo family hosted a tea gathering using the old Kitayama invitation. The Saionji family sent someone to attend.”

”Ippodo, a branch of the Omotesenke, the Kuga family’s house steward, and two veteran directors of the Kyoto Chamber of Commerce and Industry all changed their tune on the same night.”

He paused.

”They are no longer talking about Tokyo capital now. What they are saying is—the historical ties of Kitayama.”

The room fell silent for half a beat.

These words were far more difficult to handle than any rebuttal article.

The Hakusuikai could paint Saionji Trading as foreign Tokyo capital, but they could not deny the Saionji family’s ancient roots in Kitayama in front of the people of Kyoto.

The Kujo family did not write a single article for Saionji, yet with a single tea gathering, they stripped away half of the justification for the entire public opinion war.

As long as they continued to write of the Saionji family as Tokyo capital, Kyoto would likely elevate the level of response further.

By then, the one coming forward to correct the statement would no longer be the manager of Ippodo or an old Kazoku house steward, but rather a Kyoto elder of sufficient stature.

But if they changed their tune in the second piece, it would be equivalent to the Hakusuikai actively admitting that the first piece was indefensible.

Uragami picked up his teacup; the tea had already cooled slightly.

He took a sip, his brow furrowing ever so slightly.

”Stop the articles.”

Yasui suddenly looked up.

”Mr. Uragami?”

”Stop the public opinion campaign.” Uragami’s tone did not intensify, but the atmospheric pressure in the room suddenly dropped. ”Have the Kansai Financial Journal pull the next two features. Find any excuse. Advertising adjustments, layout planning, postponement of interviews—anything will do.”

Umeba breathed a sigh of relief, but immediately grew tense again.

”Then, as for Saionji Trading...”

Uragami placed the teacup back on the low table.

”Shift all energy back to Itoman.”

Kubota’s fountain pen tip paused on the paper.

He did not look up, but simply wrote Uragami’s words word-for-word into the official minutes.

[Advisor’s Directive: Suspend external public relations communication; shift the focus of work to Itoman-related financial stabilization measures.]

Uragami’s gaze swept past Kubota and rested on Yasui’s face.

”The Saionji family won a round in Kyoto, which shows they know the rules and also shows they know where their roots lie. But in the end, the business world still looks at the books.”

His voice was low and deep.

”As long as Itoman’s black hole has not burst open, Sumitomo Bank remains the center of the Sumitomo-system capital chain. Manufacturers can temporarily bypass a letter of credit or two, but their long-term loans, equipment mortgages, land guarantees, and year-end working capital are all still in our hands.”

Umeba nodded.

”Currently, the audit team has only obtained Itoman’s internal vouchers; they do not yet have Sumitomo Bank’s complete credit authorization drafts.”

Uragami looked at him.

”How much longer can those drafts be delayed?”

Umeba hesitated.

”If we use the departmental hierarchical filing system, combined with the confidentiality clauses of the comprehensive credit agreement, we can normally delay for two weeks. However, the Sumitomo main family’s supplementary authorization letter has already pressed down on us once. If they continue to issue additional authorizations, our room for maneuver will shrink.”

Uragami’s eyes turned colder.

”Then make sure that room does not continue to shrink.”

Yasui’s voice grew even lower.

”Do we need to do some work on the main family’s legal department?”

Uragami did not speak immediately.

Kitashinchi outside the window was still bustling.

The daytime streets were far less neon-drenched than at night, but the sound of vehicles occasionally passing outside the ryotei could still penetrate the gaps in the paper sliding doors, turning into a muffled hum.

After a moment, he slowly spoke.

”Those few people in the main family’s legal department are young, clean, and easily intimidated. Tell them that once Sumitomo Bank’s credit is damaged, the bank will not be the only one hurt; the short-term financing of Sumitomo Metal, Sumitomo Chemical, and Sumitomo Electric will all be re-examined by rating agencies.”

Uragami raised his hand, his fingertips tapping gently on the briefing paper.

”Since they like to talk about industrial credit, let them understand that once something like credit is torn apart, no one can walk away with only benefits.”

Kubota kept his head down, rewriting this sentence into smoother, official phrasing.

[Need to explain the overall risk to group credit to the main family’s legal department, to avoid individual authorizations triggering external misinterpretations.]

After writing, his fingertips paused on the edge of the paper for a moment.

Then, he quietly slipped his left hand into his suit’s inner pocket, feeling the hard paper cover of his private B5 notebook.

He did not take it out.

Now was not yet the time.