Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

April 5, 1991, 9:00 PM.

Azabu-Juban, The Club.

April in Tokyo was much warmer, though there was still a hint of chill after nightfall.

The fireplace on the first floor of the main building was unlit, and a pot of white Andromeda flowers sat on the mantelpiece. Several members sat in the lounge area near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Their drinks had been sitting for a long time; what they were actually picking up repeatedly were the pages that had just been delivered from the fax machine.

”Out of eleven construction companies, seven can provide complete project confirmation documents, and three of them can complete the initial review tonight.”

President Yoshino placed the list in the centre of the table, his fingers pressing down on the three names at the top.

”A total of 2.4 billion yen in bridge financing is needed. The amount is not large, and the completed work and accounts receivable are also very clear. As long as Saionji Construction is willing to confirm the subsequent subcontracting arrangements, a letter of intent can be issued tomorrow morning.”

Ito Masatoshi, sitting across from him, picked up the list and glanced at it.

”I have met the second one. They did the underground piping for two of Ito-Yokado’s stores, and their work schedule was quite reliable.”

”Then shall we leave them to you?”

”They can handle their own old debts.” Ito Masatoshi smiled. ”The six stores originally scheduled for renovation this year can start construction ahead of schedule. The pricing and payment terms will follow the Saionji method. If they do a good job, there will be more orders; if they do not, it ends after this part.”

A senior managing director of a trading company nearby picked up his whiskey, then set the glass back down upon hearing this.

”Mr. Ito has also learned the thirty-day settlement method now.”

”When someone puts a usable method on the table, why should I insist on waiting another sixty days?”

Ito Masatoshi handed the list back to President Yoshino.

”In the past, I always felt that the longer the payment period was dragged out, the more cash I had on hand.”

”But in the current situation, companies are collapsing one by one every day. By the ninetieth day, I doubt the interest saved would be enough to find a new construction crew.”

President Yoshino nodded and wrote ”Ito-Yokado” after the second company’s name.

The paper was passed along the table to the next person. Some were willing to offer warehouse maintenance projects, others could provide credit for building materials, and someone else had their eye on the crew in the list that had just obtained qualifications for sewer construction, planning to bring them into a site in Koto Ward.

The television hung on the wooden wall to the side of the hall, its volume turned very low. The evening news was replaying the speech by Isomura Hisanori at the Ueno Open-Air Concert Hall. The camera panned from the stage to the audience, and rows of light-yellow wage envelopes appeared on the screen.

When the news anchor mentioned that the Saionji Group publicly supported Isomura, several people in the lounge looked up, but quickly continued discussing the list in their hands.

The old member sitting on the outermost side suddenly laughed.

”Four years ago, when people met here, the first thing they asked was which piece of land Mr. Saionji had bought recently, or whether they should keep holding onto New York stocks.”

As he spoke, he looked toward the other side of the hall.

The small room originally used for bridge was lit, but the card tables had long been cleared into storage. Against the wall, there were now two fax machines and a long table, where several club staff members were sorting documents sent by banks, companies, and Isomura’s office. Two secretaries stood by the door waiting for replies; no one had the heart to touch a card.

”Now, it is quite the opposite. Everyone sits here, discussing which company can even open its doors on Monday.”

”That just shows that the things Mr. Saionji warned us to sell before were indeed things that should have been sold.”

The trading company executive replied with a smile.

”Only by preserving cash do we have the qualifications to sit here today and pick companies.”

Several people laughed.

The words sounded somewhat cruel, but no one at the table felt it was strange. When the bubble was at its hottest, a membership card to The Club meant being able to hear the wind direction in advance; now that banks had started tightening loans and land was harder to sell by the day, it had developed a more direct use.

If a company lacked 2 billion yen, going to a bank alone would only result in demands for additional land and housing as collateral.

But in this Western-style mansion, banks could first see its unsettled project payments, retail companies could offer store renovation projects, and trading companies could push the payment deadlines for steel and cement back by a month.

The gap still existed, but after being broken down by those present, it was no longer as frightening as it initially seemed.

The core membership of The Club remained at only forty-eight seats.

Over the past year, however, more applications had been submitted to the board than in the first three years before it opened. Some were willing to raise the membership deposit to 300 million yen, and others sent Ginza buildings and Karuizawa villas as collateral, all of which were eventually returned as is.

Today, to walk in here, the most useful content on the application had become a different kind of thing: how many orders one could provide, how many jobs one could save, and how many people in banks, government offices, and local organisations were willing to take one’s calls.

The old member looked at the list on the table and suddenly asked:

”Someone just said that The Club is becoming more and more like a bank without a sign.”

President Yoshino finished writing the last number on the document and looked up at him.

”Whoever said that probably has not been to a real bank.”

”A bank would not let Mr. Ito sit at the loan review table and arrange six stores for a client on the fly.”

Ito Masatoshi leaned back in the sofa and raised his glass with a smile.

”I agree with that.”

Laughter rang out easily in the hall again.

Just then, light footsteps came from the direction of the foyer.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki walked in.

He had only brought Shimada with him today. Shimada exchanged a few words with Fujita at the door and remained in the outer hall to wait, while Tsutsumi Yoshiaki crossed the hall alone.

Several members nodded to him one after another. President Yoshino even held up the list in his hand, smiling as he asked if Seibu had any idle maintenance projects that could be brought out to save people.

”Seibu already has enough people it needs to save.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki replied casually, but his footsteps paused at the table.

He looked down at the newly added bank, store, and warehouse projects on the list, and then glanced at Isomura Hisanori on the television.

”Moving quickly.”

”If we are one step slower today, another bankrupt company might appear on the list tomorrow.”

President Yoshino turned the paper to the next page.

”If Chairman Tsutsumi changes his mind, there is still time to write Seibu’s projects on it.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki chuckled, did not reply, turned around, and continued walking toward the stairs.

He had come here tonight specifically to go upstairs to find Shuichi.

But just as he reached the stairs, Tsutsumi Yoshiaki noticed that Shuichi was already standing at the corner of the second-floor corridor, one hand resting on the dark wooden railing, quietly watching the list being passed around downstairs.

It seemed he had been waiting there for a while.

”Shuichi-kun.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki stopped and looked up at him.

”Did you know I would come?”

”Chairman Tsutsumi had no appointment tonight.”

Shuichi said with a smile.

”I was just thinking that at this time today, someone would probably want a drink.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at him for two seconds and laughed along.

The people from Saionji always liked to phrase things they already knew as if they had just happened to guess them.

”Tea has been prepared on the second floor.”

Shuichi walked down from the corridor and stopped on the last step.

”However, the business Chairman Tsutsumi brought today probably should not be left to get cold while drinking tea.”

He raised the key in his hand.

”A batch of old wine was just organised in the wine cellar. Would you like to join me to pick a bottle?”

”Your treat?”

”When has this place ever let Chairman Tsutsumi pay?”

Shuichi turned sideways and walked toward the corridor leading to the basement.

”Hmm, I remember the membership fee back then did not cost a single yen less.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki followed, scolding with a smile.

”You know, that is the rule.”

The stairs leading to the underground wine cellar were hidden behind the main building, and the entrance was a thick wooden door with copper edges. After the attendant opened the door, a cool breeze carrying the dampness of corks and stone walls surged up from below.

The wine cellar was maintained at twelve degrees Celsius year-round. When they stepped down to the last step, the lingering warmth of the Tokyo spring night disappeared completely.

Wooden wine racks on both sides extended along the walls into the depths, the bottles covered with a thin layer of dust. The first batch of Bordeaux red wine collected here was bought by Satsuki before the Japanese began large-scale acquisitions of French wineries.

Back then, Shuichi had thought that filling a wine cellar capable of storing 20,000 bottles in advance was somewhat of a waste.

Now, the price of many wines inside had risen more than tenfold.

The Bordeaux Grand Cru occupied the innermost rows, while Burgundy and Champagne were lined up on both sides. Near the entrance, there was still a member storage area, and each wooden compartment had a small tag with a name and storage date hanging on it.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki walked slowly forward along the wine rack, his eyes scanning row after row of bottles.

”When you were buying wine back then, people in Tokyo were still complaining that French wineries would not give them enough quotas.”

”Now, many people are even preparing to sell the houses where they keep their wine.”

Shuichi picked up a bottle of 1982 Latour, looked at the label, and put it back in its original place.

”So in the last six months, more and more wine has been sent for storage. Several members have already listed their Tokyo mansions for sale, and when clearing out their wine cellars, they sent the wine here first. Ownership and insurance are registered truthfully, and storage fees are charged as usual.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki smiled upon hearing this.

”Even keeping a few boxes of wine for others, you can turn it into a business.”

”The wine racks would be empty anyway.”

”That is very much like your... oh no, like the style of your young lady.”

Shuichi also looked at him with a smile.

”I will pass Chairman Tsutsumi’s compliment on to my daughter truthfully.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki’s expression stiffened, and he coughed twice.

”That will not be necessary.”

The two walked to the long table in the centre of the wine cellar. On the table were already a few empty wine baskets, a small copper hammer for opening boxes, and a thick storage ledger.

Shuichi took a small lamp from the wall and walked slowly forward along the wine rack.

”How is the ’82 Mouton?”

”Too young.”

”Is an ’82 wine still considered young?”

”Good things should be left to age for a few more years.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki followed behind him, reaching out to take a bottle of wine from another row, and glanced at the label.

”A ’74 Latour.”

Shuichi took it and inspected the bottle neck.

”Is your mood that bad today?”

”I thought Saionji would like wines from bad vintages.”

”Why?”

”Because they are cheap to buy.”

Shuichi smiled.

”If it can last until now, it is already no longer cheap.”

The two of them ultimately did not choose that bottle of Latour.

Shuichi walked a few more steps forward and pulled a bottle of 1978 Margaux from the centre of the wine rack. Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at the vintage and did not continue to be picky.

There was a small wooden table deep inside the wine cellar.

Shuichi placed the wine on the table, removed the wax seal from the bottle mouth, and slowly pulled out the cork with a corkscrew. Tsutsumi Yoshiaki stood by watching, and only after the wine was poured into the decanter did he place the black folder he had been holding in his hand onto the tabletop.

”At ten o’clock tomorrow morning, Suzuki will hold a press conference at the Metropolitan Government Building.”

Shuichi did not stop what he was doing.

”Mm.”

”He is preparing to announce the ’Tokyo Metropolitan Small and Medium Construction Industry Emergency Support Measures’.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki opened the folder and took out a draft printed with the internal code of the Metropolitan Government Building.

”Complete settlement of construction payments within thirty days, provide revolving financing based on confirmed accounts receivable, re-register unemployed construction workers, and then coordinate suspended projects through industry associations.”

He stopped there and glanced at the red wine in the decanter.

”Sounds familiar, does it not?”

”Indeed.”

Shuichi set the used cork aside and picked up the draft to flip through a few pages.

The wording in the document had been polished by bureaucrats, and the word count was much higher than Isomura’s speech today, but the actual content was almost exactly the same.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Government would ”study” shortening the settlement period.

The Credit Guarantee Association would ”discuss” providing special guarantees.

The Metropolitan Government was preparing to establish a consultation window with industry groups.

Suzuki still being the incumbent governor was his greatest advantage.

As long as he stood in front of the Metropolitan Government emblem and said these things, voters would easily feel that the incumbent government had already begun to act. The advantage that Isomura just established today would also be largely undermined.

”This document was delivered to my office at seven o’clock tonight.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki used his finger to flip to the last page.

The name of the Seibu Group was already printed on the list of supporting enterprises, with only a space left on the side for the confirmation seal.

”They want me to stand next to Suzuki tomorrow morning.”

”Did you agree?”

”If I had agreed, I would be preparing the speech draft for the press conference right now.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki pulled out a chair next to the wooden table and sat down.

”The Tokyo local organisation thinks that since Seibu has just handed over a portion of its management rights to Saionji, it needs to prove that it still has an independent stance. They have thought about it very thoroughly for me.”

”Indeed, very thorough.”

Shuichi placed the document back on the table.

”They even considered what Seibu needs for you.”

”Stop with the sarcastic remarks.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked up at him.

”I came here as soon as I received the news.”

”I know.”

Shuichi picked up a clean wine glass, poured a small amount of red wine to coat the sides of the glass, and then poured the wine out.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki’s brows gradually furrowed.

”You know what Suzuki is going to do tomorrow?”

”Before the second draft was sent to the Suzuki office, Saionji had already obtained the first draft.”

”When?”

”This afternoon.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at Shuichi for a moment.

”SIS again?”

Shuichi did not answer, just picked up another wine glass.

For a moment, only the sound of red wine falling into the glass remained in the wine cellar.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki leaned back against the chair, suddenly feeling that the document he brought was somewhat redundant.

”Seriously, sometimes I feel like your SIS is like the FBI; how do you know everything? Since when did she start operating this intelligence system?”

Shuichi did not pay attention to the seemingly irritable Tsutsumi Yoshiaki; he swirled the red wine in his hand, observing its colour.

”That is a trade secret, and I am afraid I cannot tell you.”

Upon hearing this, Tsutsumi Yoshiaki crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair.

He had rushed all the way to Azabu-Juban, originally wanting to see what kind of reaction Saionji would have after hearing about this. As it turned out, the other party might have already arranged everything on how to respond tomorrow.

”So I made a wasted trip?”

”I would not say that.”

Shuichi pushed one of the glasses of wine to him.

”Chairman Tsutsumi at least let us know that Seibu did not stamp that document.”

”Hmph, verbal commitments are not worth anything.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki did not touch the wine glass.

”I want to join your operation tomorrow.”

Shuichi looked up.

”Seibu?”

”Seibu Railway has two station renovation projects that have been suspended, and Prince Hotel also has three equipment upgrades that can be started ahead of schedule.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki pulled another list from the bottom of the folder.

”There are also construction payments for seven subcontracting companies that the finance department originally planned to pay next month. If we adjust the procedures tonight, we can send out the checks tomorrow morning.”

Shuichi took the list.

The total amount was not particularly large.

But the companies involved were distributed across Nerima, Toshima, Tokorozawa, and Shinjuku, covering several important electoral districts along the Seibu Railway line. As long as these companies announced they had received payments tomorrow morning and returned to the construction sites with workers, the plan Suzuki announced at ten o’clock would become very awkward.

Suzuki was preparing to tell voters that the Tokyo Metropolitan Government would study how to resume work.

But on Isomura’s side, some people had already received checks.

”What do you want?”

Shuichi asked.

”Add Seibu to tomorrow’s announcement list.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki answered very directly.

”The station projects and hotel projects can all be released uniformly by the Isomura office; Seibu will not hold a separate press conference.”

”Anything else?”

”For the next round of project coordination for small and medium-sized construction companies, Seibu must have a seat.”

Shuichi looked down at the list, not agreeing immediately.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki did not rush him either.

The red wine had been in the decanter for a while, but the aroma still had not fully opened up. Tsutsumi Yoshiaki picked up the glass, sniffed it, and placed it back on the table.

”What was Saionji originally planning to do?”

”Tomorrow morning at eight, the first batch of companies that have passed the review will receive financing commitments, payment arrangements, or new contracts.”

Shuichi set the list aside.

”Four of the construction sites will reopen before nine o’clock. The Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association has prepared personnel, and Saionji Construction’s material trucks will enter the site at the same time.”

”At nine-thirty, Isomura will hold a press conference to announce the checks, contracts, and the list of resumed work.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki listened and nodded lightly.

Saionji was indeed well-prepared.

When Suzuki announced the policy at ten o’clock, Isomura would already be able to have reporters film the trucks entering the construction sites.

The election was not over yet, and no one could force voters to believe a promise. But checks that had already been sent out, construction site gates that had been reopened, and workers entering the site in work uniforms were all easier for people to believe than a research plan stamped with the Metropolitan Government seal.

”After adding Seibu, the scale will be even larger.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki said.

”It will also make it difficult for them to accuse Saionji of being a monopoly.”

”Seibu joining is indeed beneficial.”

Shuichi picked up the list and checked it again.

”However, all projects must be announced in the order of Saionji. The construction payments must be audited tonight, and reporters will be arranged uniformly by the Isomura office tomorrow morning. Seibu cannot add conditions at the last minute, nor can it release news separately before nine-thirty.”

”Agreed.”

”The costs generated by financing and resumption of work shall be borne by Seibu.”

”Of course.”

”Once the list is handed to Fujita, it cannot be changed again.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at him.

”Shuichi-kun, when did you also learn to add conditions one by one?”

”Well, I have a very good teacher at home.”

Shuichi smiled and folded the list.

”In short, Seibu can join.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki’s expression relaxed, and he reached out to pick up his wine glass.

Shuichi, however, did not immediately clink glasses with him.

”However, this counts as Chairman Tsutsumi owing Saionji a favour.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki’s hand holding the wine glass stopped in mid-air.

”Your ’teacher’ just took from me fifteen years of commercial operation rights for the station, ten years of hotel procurement, and the business around the Seibu Stadium.”

”Those were all written in the contract.”

Shuichi said it very naturally.

”The favour is separate.”

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at him and did not speak for a long while.

A few seconds later, he laughed softly.

”Why did I not notice before that you are even greedier than your daughter?”

”Because in the past, Chairman Tsutsumi rarely owed me any favours.”

”When do you plan to collect?”

”I have not thought about it yet.”

Shuichi finally picked up his own wine glass.

”Let us keep it as an IOU for now.”

The two wine glasses clinked together gently.

Tsutsumi Yoshiaki took a sip and quickly furrowed his brows.

”It has not breathed yet.”

”It is indeed a bit early.”

Shuichi also tasted it and then placed the wine glass back on the table.

He got up and walked to the door of the wine cellar, pressing the call button on the wall. Fujita soon appeared outside the door and took the Seibu project list from Shuichi’s hand.

”Send it to Endo.”

Shuichi instructed.

”Complete the audit tonight and include it in the first batch of the list for tomorrow morning.”

Fujita looked down at the Seibu Group seal on top, his expression unchanged.

”Yes.”

The door to the wine cellar closed again.

The decanter on the table remained there quietly, the deep red wine swaying slightly under the light.

This bottle of wine still needed time..