Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

April 7, 1991, 8:17 PM.

Marunouchi, S.A. Group Headquarters.

Takahashi stood outside the main entrance of the building, taking out that business card from his pocket for the third time.

When he received it at school a few days ago, Takahashi did not think there was anything special about this business card.

At that time, Saionji Satsuki, sitting in front of him, was wearing her Gakushuin University freshman suit, politely calling him ”senior,” and asking if she could borrow the blackboard before refuting his report.

In just a few short days, this name had completely changed in his eyes.

In order to complete the topic Saionji Satsuki left behind, Takahashi had consulted the S.A. Group’s public records from the past few years.

The investigation initially started around the Seibu Group collaboration, but subsequently, he kept encountering unavoidable times, companies, and people.

As he followed those clues, the originally unrelated decisions gradually connected.

He finally understood exactly who he had been debating with in the lecture hall.

The corners of the business card lingered between his fingers for a moment, and Takahashi looked up.

The S.A. Group headquarters was not the tallest building in Marunouchi, nor was its exterior wall clad in the gold glass that was popular at the time.

Dark grey stone extended from the ground to the middle of the building, with narrow, tall floor-to-ceiling windows embedded near the entrance, and only an inconspicuous Saionji Family crest hung above the main entrance.

The office area was quieter than usual on a Sunday, but people kept passing by behind the glass doors, carrying files.

Takahashi watched for a while and noticed their footsteps were very fast, and they rarely stopped to talk along the way.

Several black sedans pulled up to the steps one after another; as soon as the doors opened, people carrying briefcases walked straight into the lobby.

Today was the vote-counting day for the Tokyo gubernatorial election, and as everyone knew, the Saionji Family had publicly announced their support for Isomura a few days ago.

Takahashi had originally thought that the core personnel of the Saionji Family would probably be gathered at Isomura’s campaign office at this time.

But the fact that this building in front of him was still maintaining such intensity of operation somewhat exceeded his expectations.

Or perhaps he had been wrong from the start.

For the Isomura camp, tonight was an election that would decide the outcome; for the Saionji Family, it was perhaps just one item among a large amount of work that had to be handled tonight.

This thought made Takahashi’s hand gripping the document bag tighten a little.

He put the business card back into his pocket, straightened his coat, and stepped up the stairs.

After the automatic doors opened, two security guards in dark uniforms looked over at the same time.

One of them stepped forward half a step and politely asked for his name and the purpose of his visit.

”Faculty of Economics, Gakushuin University, Takahashi.”

Takahashi took out his business card and handed it to the other party.

”I am here to see Miss Saionji Satsuki.”

The security guard took the business card, his gaze lingering on the name for a moment.

”Please wait a moment.”

He placed the business card on the black sensor panel on the side of the counter.

A few seconds later, the indicator light turned on.

The security guard next to him immediately picked up the intercom phone and whispered Takahashi’s name.

The call was connected quickly.

After the person on the other end finished listening and replied briefly, the security guard hung up the receiver and returned the business card to Takahashi with both hands.

”Mr. Takahashi, Miss Saionji wants you to go see her directly.”

As he spoke, the two men stepped back half a step, guiding Takahashi toward a small, exclusive passage next to the access control.

There, a young staff member had already come up to greet him.

”Mr. Takahashi, please follow me.”

Takahashi took the business card and followed him through the lobby.

The building’s exterior gave a very steady impression, but the interior was newer than he had imagined.

The floor used very dark stone, and the light falling on it left only blurred reflections.

Between the reception desk and the wall were several rows of dense wooden lattices; the wood was not painted with glossy varnish, and the natural grain could still be seen on the surface.

In the centre of the lobby was a horizontally extended dark wall.

Embedded on the wall was a row of copper nameplates, writing the names of the main companies under the S.A. Group.

Saionji Construction, Saionji Trading, SIS, S.A. Investment, S-Food, S-Farm, S.A. Entertainment, UNIQLO...

Takahashi’s footsteps slowed slightly.

He had repeatedly seen these names in newspapers, company registrations, and industry materials.

They were scattered across completely different fields such as construction, finance, telecommunications, food, agriculture, retail, and entertainment, and rarely appeared together in the same report.

Now, they were quietly arranged on the same wall.

At the bottom of the list, there were still a few empty copper slots, identical in size to the nameplates above.

Takahashi could not judge whether those were reserved positions or if a company had just been removed.

Passing the side of the lobby, he saw a semi-open duty office.

A dozen staff members sat on both sides of a long table, with telephones, fax machines, and stacks of files marked with different coloured slips on the table.

The TV directly in front was playing a special program on the gubernatorial election, the volume turned very low, and the voter turnout for each district and preliminary vote-counting data were constantly scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

The staff occasionally looked up, then quickly continued processing the documents in their hands.

A middle-aged man in a suit came out of the elevator and handed several newly printed papers to the person in charge of the duty office.

”The second batch of data for Nerima Ward. Also, Seibu Railway has confirmed that the station renovation at two locations will start as scheduled tomorrow.”

”What about the construction funds?”

”The first batch of seven companies has completed the allocation, and the remaining four need bank confirmation tomorrow morning.”

The person in charge took the files, pulled out one of them, and sent it to the fax machine nearby.

The staff member leading Takahashi did not stop.

But Takahashi could not help but look back.

What those people were talking about was exactly the content he had been repeatedly calculating in his report a few days ago.

In his spreadsheet, construction funds were costs, resumption projects were future earnings, and Seibu’s participation was a variable affecting the bargaining power of both parties.

Here, whether a project could be resumed meant whether someone would walk back onto the construction site the next day; whether a sum of money could be allocated determined whether the companies on the list could survive until next week.

For the first time, he clearly felt that his so-called ”analysis” from before was actually at a great distance.

When Saionji Satsuki stood at the blackboard modifying his model, what she was considering probably never stopped at just the numbers on the spreadsheet.

Takahashi withdrew his gaze and continued to follow the young staff member forward.

The nervousness in his heart did not diminish because of this; instead, it was even more pronounced than when he was standing outside the door.

The debate at school allowed him to make mistakes.

But once the judgment here was wrong, the decimal point falling on the paper might be the door of a company that could not be opened tomorrow.

The staff member stopped in front of an independent elevator and placed his identification card on the sensor area.

The elevator door opened.

Inside, there was no full row of floor buttons like a normal elevator; only one position was lit on the metal panel.

After Takahashi walked in, the staff member did not follow.

”Miss Saionji’s secretary will meet you upstairs.”

After saying this, he stepped back outside the door and bowed slightly.

The elevator door closed slowly.

Takahashi looked down at the two document bags in his hands.

One was very thin, containing his revised Seibu collaboration analysis.

The other was significantly thicker.

Over the past few days, Takahashi had hardly slept well.

During the day, he went to the university library and the Japanese Parliament Library to check old newspapers; at night, he returned to his dormitory to organise the materials; the next day, he took the newly discovered names to look for company registrations and overseas financial data.

He originally only wanted to redo the topic Saionji Satsuki had left behind.

But things quickly exceeded the initial scope—he had found many exciting things.

The elevator rose quickly, the numbers changing constantly, but Takahashi felt almost no obvious vibration.

After reaching the top floor, the doors slid open to both sides, and a young woman in a dark suit was already waiting outside.

Takahashi had seen her in news photos.

Matsumuro Chizuru.

She rarely appeared alone in reports; most of the time, she stood behind Saionji Satsuki or Shuichi, holding files or turning to listen to someone’s explanation.

”Mr. Takahashi.”

Chizuru bowed slightly to him.

”The young lady is handling some matters; please come with me.”

”Excuse me.”

Takahashi followed her deep into the corridor.

This floor was much quieter than the one below.

The floor changed from stone to dark wooden planks; footsteps landing on it only made a very light sound.

The few doors on both sides were spaced very far apart.

Occasionally, someone would come out of a room, and upon seeing Chizuru, they would stop and let them pass first.

Takahashi recognised one of them, who was also the only person Chizuru took the initiative to stop for upon seeing.

Managing Director Endo.

He was thinner in person than he looked in the newspapers, with obvious fatigue under his eyes, and was reading the files in his hands while walking.

Two staff members following behind him kept reporting numbers; he only stopped where confirmation was needed, signed, and then handed the papers back.

When passing by Takahashi, Managing Director Endo looked up.

His gaze first fell on Chizuru, then turned to the document bags in Takahashi’s hands.

Chizuru bowed slightly.

”Managing Director, this is the young lady’s guest.”

Managing Director Endo nodded and did not continue to ask.

After they brushed past each other, Takahashi heard the people behind him start reporting again.

”Mr. Isomura’s lead in Taito Ward is higher than the office expected, and the third batch of ballot boxes from Toshima Ward has not yet been counted...”

The voices gradually faded away with the distance.

Takahashi subconsciously slowed his steps a little.

The results he had deduced through his research were not wrong; Saionji Satsuki indeed possessed extremely strong authority within the group.

A group managing director like Managing Director Endo did not even ask to know the identity of the other party after hearing ”the young lady’s guest.”

Although Takahashi had long known through documents that Satsuki held a special position within the Saionji Group, there was still a vast difference between the ”actual participation in decision-making” described in the files and everything happening before his eyes.

Perhaps within the Saionji Group, she was second only to the head of the Saionji Family, Mr. Shuichi.

Soon, they arrived at the end of the corridor.

There was no name on the door at the end; only a black card reader embedded beside it, along with a silver family crest that almost blended into the wall.

She knocked gently on the door twice, waited a moment, and then pushed the door aside.

”Milady, Mr. Takahashi has arrived.”

There was no answer from inside.

Chizuru, however, had already turned her body to the side and gestured for Takahashi to enter.

Takahashi walked into the room.

The first thing that caught his eye was the television screen at the end of the office, which occupied most of the wall.

NHK was broadcasting the live vote counting for the Tokyo gubernatorial election. The screen was divided into several sections; the centre displayed the vote tallies for Isomura Hisanori and Suzuki, while the sides showed maps of Tokyo’s wards and live feeds from reporters.

Satsuki was sitting on a low-backed chair near the television.

Today, she was wearing a soft white shirt with the cuffs rolled up to her wrists, and her jacket was draped casually over the back of the chair next to her. Her long hair was tied back with a black hair clip, and she held a vote counting sheet that had just been delivered.

When Takahashi walked in, she merely glanced up at him.

”Senior Takahashi, have a seat.”

With that, she returned her attention to the television.

”Yes, excuse me...”

Takahashi had already instinctively used honorifics and walked inside with some restraint.

The office was larger than he had expected, yet it did not immediately feel empty.

On the side near the entrance stood a long black stone table with several inactive screens embedded in its surface. On the other side, a small patch of grey-white gravel was spread out, with only a piece of treated driftwood and two dark mountain stones resting upon it.

The walls were constructed with alternating panels of unpolished wood and grey stone slabs, and between several seemingly ordinary paper sliding doors, the indicator lights of terminals flickered constantly.

Next to the wooden wall beneath the television, several fax machines were placed.

After the paper was ejected from the machines, the secretary on duty would organise the contents and place them beside Satsuki. The room was almost silent, with no noise from the machinery; there was only the sound of the television anchor and the occasional soft rustle of paper.

Modern equipment was hidden within traditional Japanese materials, yet it looked exceptionally harmonious.

What kind of design language was this? Neo-Japanese style?

Takahashi sat down on the sofa with a somewhat stiff body.

The Takahashi family was certainly not poor, but he still felt that any random ornament here looked very expensive; if he were to break a few, his father would probably disown him.

Come to think of it, had he not seen that black Raku tea bowl by the wall in the National Museum... Could this actually be the authentic one?

Takahashi put away the thought that might damage the relationship between Saionji and the Tokyo National Museum and sat up straight.

Chizuru brought tea at this moment, but she did not seem to intend to remind Satsuki that the guest had arrived; she simply placed the tea down and retreated to the other side of the office.

The television screen in front of Satsuki switched to the Isomura office.

The staff members were all standing in the lobby, and red paper flowers had already been prepared on the table, yet Isomura himself was still sitting in a front position, speaking in low voices with several campaign cadres. The bottom of the screen showed that the current vote count rate was thirty-seven percent.

Suzuki was temporarily leading by over forty thousand votes.

Takahashi had originally intended to wait for Satsuki to speak.

Soon, he realised that he should also watch the television.

Since Satsuki was waiting for the election results, he should know what she was watching.

This was part of the second test, or at least it could potentially become part of the test at any moment. Satsuki had no obligation to pause an ongoing election to listen to him slowly explain the assignment left a few days ago.

Takahashi placed his teacup back on the table and began to observe the numbers on the screen.

Suzuki maintained an advantage in the Tama area and some regions with strong traditional local organisations, while Isomura was catching up closely in wards like Taito, Koto, and Toshima. The counting speed in Nerima was slow, and NHK analysts believed it would eventually become a critical area that would determine the gap.

The program then aired a news review from the day before the voting.

In the footage, the presidents of several small and medium-sized construction companies stood at the entrance of a bank, showing reporters the letters of intent for financing they had just received. Another segment showed the gates of construction sites that had reopened; several material trucks bearing the Saionji Construction logo were slowly driving in, and workers in uniforms were receiving new entry passes at the gate.

The subtitles indicated that the first batch of eleven companies had received bridge financing and subcontracting arrangements, and four halted projects would resume this week.

The camera angle switched quickly.

Outside a station construction area on the Ikebukuro Line, Seibu Railway staff were dismantling the closed barriers. The Prince Hotel had also announced three equipment upgrade plans to be implemented in advance, and the construction payments for seven subcontracting companies had been completed before the voting day.

A reporter said off-screen: ”Both the Saionji Group and the Seibu Group have stated that these projects will continue to proceed after the election, regardless of the final result.”

Takahashi glanced at Satsuki.

She was reading the vote counting sheet for Nerima Ward, with no particular expression on her face.

The commentator on television mentioned another change.

The Tokyo Association of Small and Medium Construction Enterprises ultimately did not support any candidate in the name of the association. When asked by reporters, Shibata Eiichi only stated that each member company had the right to choose its partners based on its own operating conditions.

Sugimoto Yasuhiro had tried to organise local companies through the Tokyo Construction Association a few days ago to oppose Saionji, but in the end, he only received such an ambiguous answer.

Takahashi had not met Gondo, nor did he know exactly what had been discussed between him and Shibata.

But judging from the results, the Tokyo Construction Association at least had not sided with Suzuki.

After the vote counting rate exceeded fifty percent, the gap between the two sides began to narrow.

Isomura’s vote count in Toshima Ward significantly exceeded expectations, and the first batch of centralized counting from Nerima Ward was gradually reflected in the total. Suzuki’s lead shrank from over forty thousand votes to less than twenty thousand, and was then further narrowed when a new batch of ballot boxes from Koto Ward was counted.

The office remained very quiet.

Occasionally, hurried footsteps could be heard from outside the door, but those who entered would immediately lower their movements.

A secretary placed a new fax beside Satsuki.

After reading it, Satsuki only drew a circle next to one of the lines with a pencil.

”Send this to Managing Director Endo.”

”Yes.”

The secretary left with the document.

Takahashi saw that the top of the paper was marked ”Nerima Ward, Third Batch.”

When the vote counting rate reached sixty-eight percent, Isomura overtook Suzuki for the first time.

Leading by over two thousand seven hundred votes.

NHK did not announce the election as determined; they only placed the portraits of the two candidates on either side of the screen, and the numbers changed every few tens of seconds.

Takahashi found that his palms were slightly sweaty.

He had clearly only come to submit an assignment, yet he was forced to sit in the highest-level office of the Saionji Group, watching an election that could change the future of Tokyo for years to come.

What concerned him even more was that Satsuki remained calm.

This was the first time Takahashi had seen Satsuki at work.

She did not smile because of the overtaking, nor did she urge anyone to inquire with the Isomura office. She simply continued to look at the data for each ward, occasionally picking up newly delivered documents and placing some on the left and others on the right.

Takahashi gradually understood that classification.

On the left were the areas where the majority of the vote counting had been completed.

On the right were the areas where there were still significant variables.

When the second batch of data from Nerima Ward appeared, Isomura’s lead expanded to over twelve thousand votes.

The NHK screen suddenly cut back to the studio.

The anchor turned to the side, listened to the sound in their earpiece for a few seconds, and then lowered their head to confirm the documents on the table.

”Based on the current vote counting situation in each area, as well as the distribution of ballot boxes yet to be counted...”

A blank red horizontal bar appeared at the bottom of the screen first.

Immediately after, white text slowly appeared.

[Isomura Hisanori Election Confirmed]

The lobby of the Isomura office erupted in cheers almost immediately.

Staff members hugged each other; some raised their hands, and others had already handed the prepared red flowers to Isomura. Flashbulbs went off continuously, reporters crowded forward, and the entire screen was rapidly being filled with the crowd.

A muffled cheer came from outside the office.

Someone seemed unable to help clapping their hands, but quickly quietened down at the reminder of others. On the television screen, Isomura Hisanori had already stood up, and campaign cadres were surrounding him as he walked toward the red flower that had been prepared for so long.

Watching the television, Satsuki finally raised the corners of her mouth slightly.

Takahashi hesitated for a moment, then stood up from the sofa.

”Congratulations, Miss Saionji.”

Satsuki looked at the screen, the corners of her mouth raised slightly.

”Thank you.”

Her gaze lingered on Isomura for a moment, then she picked up the remote control and turned down the volume of the television.

The cheers in the lobby, the reporters’ questions, and the continuously flashing lights suddenly receded to the other end of the room.

Satsuki turned around and looked at Takahashi.

The same faint smile remained on her face.

”Mr. Isomura’s result is already out.”

She reached out her hand toward Takahashi.

”Now, it is time to look at the results brought by Senior Takahashi.”