Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

October 20, 1991, evening.

Tokyo, Hongo, Saionji Main Residence.

Endo took a thin piece of paper, folded twice, from his suit’s inner pocket, placed it on the desk, and pushed it forward with two fingers.

The corners of the paper had become somewhat softened from body heat, showing that he had not put it into his briefcase the entire way.

Satsuki turned the desk lamp up a notch, picked up the paper, and unfolded it.

There were only four lines of writing on the paper, written very neatly. The last line was noticeably slower than the previous ones, with every single stroke cleanly finished.

She read it from beginning to end, paused a little longer on the third line, and then flipped the paper over. The back was completely blank.

”That’s all it says?”

Endo sat down across the desk and loosened his tie knot by half an inch.

”We met in the tea room of the Imperial Hotel this afternoon. He didn’t talk much either; we sat together for about twenty minutes, and he didn’t even finish his tea.”

”Then what did he ask?”

”He only asked about one thing.”

Endo pulled his notebook from his other pocket, flipped to the page with the bookmark, but did not look down at it.

”Those Fuyo enterprises on the list will have to pass through his desk from now on to get money. He wants to know which ones should continue to receive funds and which ones should be stopped.”

A soft sound came from the sofa. Kenjiro had just put his teacup back on the tray, and upon hearing this sentence, his fingers paused on the rim of the cup.

He had been called into the study after finishing dinner, and when he entered, he thought they were going to spot-check another report. Only now did he finally understand that tonight they were talking about Fuji.

Satsuki placed the paper back on the desk and held down one corner with a paperweight.

”What about himself? Did he say what he wants?”

”He said he doesn’t want anything.”

Satsuki let out a laugh.

”That means he wants everything.”

Endo did not reply to this, simply closing his notebook.

Having followed the eldest miss for so many years, he knew very well when to leave the rest of the words for her to finish herself.

Satsuki leaned back into her chair and turned her head to look at the sofa.

”Uncle, come sit over here. You will be running errands for this matter next, so if there’s anything you don’t understand, ask now.”

Kenjiro stood up, walked over to the desk, and sat down in the chair next to Endo, sitting up very straight.

”Then I’ll ask directly.”

He cleared his throat.

”What good will an incident at Fuji Bank actually do for us? We don’t hold many shares in Fuji anyway; no matter how many bad debts it has, in the end it’s their own business.”

”Well asked.”

Satsuki reached out and pressed the lampshade of the desk lamp downward, casting the circle of light right onto that piece of paper.

”First, Fuji is definitely going to have an incident.”

”Over at the Akasaka Branch, not a single penny has entered the accounts for the certificates of deposit issued over the past year or so, adding up to over 400 billion yen. A hole like this can be covered up for a year, but not for a lifetime.”

Kenjiro nodded thoughtfully.

”Second, with such a huge incident occurring, President Okabe will definitely have to step down, and Senior Managing Director Tanimoto will most likely end up inside. Fuji will have to change to a new president.”

She extended her finger and tapped the top line of the paper.

”The person replacing them at that time must be Kagawa.”

Kenjiro was stunned for a moment, and instinctively glanced at Endo. Endo’s expression was as calm as usual, obviously having known about it long ago.

”Fuji is the main bank of the Fuyo Group. Whenever those dozens of Fuyo companies lack money, the first door they knock on is Fuji’s. In the future, whether this door opens and how wide it opens will be up to Kagawa to decide.”

Satsuki withdrew her finger, her tone becoming a bit lighter.

”In other words, we call the shots.”

”Then when that time comes, whether Saionji wants to borrow money from Fuji, or wants which piece of land or which factory from Fuyo’s hands, isn’t it just a matter of making a phone call? Put this way, Uncle, do you think there’s any benefit?”

Kenjiro slowly took a breath. Having spent time at the Chiba distribution center, he knew one thing most clearly: which door goods enter and whose hands they reach first are often more valuable than the goods themselves.

What Satsuki was talking about right now was actually the same principle, only this warehouse was tens of thousands of times larger.

”Yes.”

He thought for a moment, then frowned again.

”But Kagawa has been shielding Akasaka from inspections all year. If it really blows up, the inspector will be the first one to investigate him. If he goes down together with them, wouldn’t all our arrangements be completely wasted?”

”As for that, he will handle it himself.”

Satsuki picked up the paperweight, weighed it in her hand, and then put it back as it was.

”If he hadn’t even thought this through, he wouldn’t have agreed to work for us a year ago. Instead of worrying about him, Uncle, you should worry about who the fuse should be handed to.”

”The fuse?”

”Someone has to detonate the bomb after all.”

Satsuki counted on her fingers for him.

”Kagawa cannot press it. The moment he presses it, everyone will ask him why he didn’t speak up earlier. Our family cannot send people to report it to the Ministry of Finance either; the relationship between Saionji and Fuji will come to light upon investigation, and by then it will look like we stabbed them in the back.”

Kenjiro was taken aback. He was just about to say, what do you mean look like, this is stabbing them in the back, but seeing the hint of a smile on Satsuki’s face, he swallowed those words back down.

”Then who should go?”

”Let the certificates of deposit go themselves.”

Endo spoke up again at this moment, taking over the conversation.

”Those certificates of deposit issued by Akasaka are all in the hands of a real estate company called Chiyoda Kosan.”

”Holding the certificates of deposit, it uses them as collateral to borrow money from several external financial companies. When the certificates mature, Chiyoda Kosan negotiates with the companies that lent it money to arrange a rollover, exchanging them for new certificates of deposit to keep as collateral. For over a year, it has operated this way.”

”The one holding the most collateral among them is Sankyo Finance in Nihonbashi Kayabacho. It holds Akasaka’s certificates of deposit totaling 60 billion in face value.”

He paused for a moment, looking at the piece of paper Satsuki had just held down.

”The third line Kagawa wrote is about this matter. The first batch matures on October 28.”

Kenjiro lowered his head to look at that line of writing.

Akasaka also has its first batch maturing, October 28.

Just now he had taken this as a mere reminder, but looking at it again now, it took on a new meaning.

”On the maturity date, if the person holding the certificates of deposit goes to the counter and refuses to roll them over, insisting that the branch pay out the money...”

”Akasaka won’t be able to pay it out.”

Satsuki finished the sentence for him.

”Once the counter fails to pay, the branch manager will have to report it to the head office. Once the head office investigates, all 400 billion will be completely uncovered.”

”From start to finish, no one went to report it; it’s just that someone held the certificates of deposit and went to collect their money on the due date.”

After finishing, she blinked at Kenjiro.

”Therefore, those certificates of deposit need to change hands.”

”Buy them?”

Kenjiro raised his head.

”Those people are clutching Fuji Bank certificates of deposit in their hands, which is almost the same as clutching cash. Why would they sell them to us?”

”Uncle has been reading the newspapers lately, right? That ryotei proprietress in Osaka.”

”Onoe Nui?”

Kenjiro quickly reacted.

The origin dated back to August of this year.

Onoe Nui, the ryotei proprietress famous across the Japanese islands in Osaka, had her crimes exposed.

A woman running a small pub, relying on so-called prophecies of ”divine possession,” actually used forged certificates of deposit issued by the Industrial Bank of Japan and Toyo Shinkin Bank as collateral, fraudulently extracting a staggering sum of 342 billion yen from dozens of financial institutions back and forth.

Satsuki nodded.

”Ever since that incident, everyone across Japan holding certificates of deposit as collateral hasn’t been able to sleep well at night. What they want most is to know whether that piece of paper in their hands is real or fake, yet they are most afraid to go to the bank and ask.”

”Why are they afraid?”

”If they ask and find out it’s fake, the collateral vanishes on the spot, and the billions or tens of billions lent out all become unrecoverable bad debts, forcing the company to close its doors the very next day.”

”But if they don’t ask, on paper it’s at least a secured loan.”

”As long as they continue to bury their heads in the sand, they can really treat this matter as if it never happened. Finance is quite magical, isn’t it?”

Satsuki smiled.

”So the thing they want to do most right now, before anything happens, is to transfer this pile of stuff to a sucker.”

”As long as a sucker takes over, everything will get better.”

Kenjiro looked at Satsuki for a few seconds, slowly understanding.

”So... we’re going to be that sucker?”

”Mm-hmm.”

Satsuki nodded with a smile.

”Uncle, remember to act convincingly, okay?”

”We can’t let Endo show his face, otherwise Kuwata will think that a big figure from Saionji is very interested in what he holds, and the price won’t be driven down.”

”But Uncle, you’ve spent so many years in the warehouse; sitting there, you look even more like a businessman who only recognizes goods and not people than Endo does.”

Kenjiro opened his mouth. This sounded like a compliment, yet not quite like one, but he no longer had the time to ponder it in detail.

”Then how much will we offer?”

”Sankyo lent 48 billion to Chiyoda Kosan, backed by 60 billion in certificates of deposit as collateral.”

Endo pushed a page of written conditions in front of him.

”Buy both the loan and the collateral together at 35%, which is 16.8 billion. The upper limit can go up to 40%, but it’s best not to reach it.”

Kenjiro stared at that string of numbers for a few seconds.

16.8 billion in exchange for a 48 billion loan, plus the bank certificates of deposit with a face value of 60 billion pinned underneath. Half a year ago, he wouldn’t even have dared to think of such a thing.

”What if he asks, what if the certificates of deposit are fake, why are we still buying?”

Satsuki picked up the thin sheet of paper, folded it again, and tucked it into a copy of Principles of Economics on her desk.

”Then Uncle should tell him that Saionji buys a lot, sometimes makes a profit and sometimes loses, and doesn’t care about this single transaction.”

She closed the textbook and smiled.

”Anyway, we never planned to make money off this particular transaction in the first place.”

...

October 23, afternoon.

Tokyo, Nihonbashi Kayabacho, Sankyo Finance.

Kuwata stubbed out his fourth cigarette in the ashtray, which was already filled to the brim.

His secretary had come in to change it once earlier, but finding the other person’s movements too slow, he had waved them out again.

The bottom drawer of his desk was locked, and the key hung right from his belt.

Inside the drawer was a small safe containing twelve time deposit certificates, each printed with the Fuji Bank logo, stamped with the Akasaka Branch manager’s seal, and accompanied on the back by a pledge creation commitment letter issued by the branch.

A year ago, these twelve sheets of paper had been Sankyo’s proudest business venture.

Chiyoda Kosan had used them to borrow money, with interest rates significantly higher than industry peers, and since the collateral consisted of Fuji Bank deposit certificates, everyone in the company felt this was money picked up off the street.

But ever since August, Kuwata hadn’t slept well for a single day.

Newspapers reported that a woman running a ryotei in Osaka had borrowed hundreds of billions from several banks and financial companies using fake deposit certificates issued by a shinkin bank.

On the morning the news broke, he took these twelve deposit certificates out of the safe and stared at them against the window one by one for half an hour.

The stamps were real, the paper was real, and the serial numbers were consecutive, yet the more he looked, the less confident he felt.

He had sent people to the Akasaka Branch twice to make inquiries. Both times, a deputy manager named Shimamura came out to receive them, politely offered them tea, and said that if Fuji Bank’s deposit certificates could not be trusted, nothing in Japan could be trusted.

The words sounded wonderful, but Kuwata knew very well that the more one asked about such matters, the more dangerous it became.

The internal telephone rang.

”President, the people from Saionji have arrived.”

Kuwata straightened his tie, pushed the ashtray to the corner of the desk, and stood up to greet them.

Two people had come.

The one walking in front was in his forties, wearing a dark gray suit, not very tall, with a thick build in his shoulders and back. His business card was printed with the Saionji Group Family Head Office, and his name was Saionji Kenjiro. Following behind him was a young lawyer carrying a briefcase.

Kuwata took the business card and glanced at it twice. He had the surname Saionji, yet he belonged only to the Family Head Office and held no corporate title.

Half of his tension relaxed; the Saionji Main Family Residence had not sent any major figures, which meant that in their eyes, this was merely an ordinary transaction.

In the reception room, the secretary served tea. Kenjiro, however, did not touch it.

”President Kuwata, I will get straight to the point.”

”Saionji wishes to purchase your company’s loan to Chiyoda Kosan, along with the pledged Akasaka Branch deposit certificates, transferred over together.”

Kuwata picked up his teacup and slowly blew on it.

”Saionji House is truly well-informed. But Mr. Saionji, those are Fuji Bank deposit certificates, practically no different from cash. If your side is sincere about buying, I can consider ninety percent.”

”Thirty-five percent.”

Kenjiro’s tone was very flat.

Kuwata’s teacup stopped at his lips. He set the cup down; a smile still hung on his face, but his voice had grown somewhat colder.

”Mr. Saionji, must you be joking with me at this price? Fuji Bank is a mainstay of the Fuyo Group; even if these deposit certificates were taken to Kabutocho, they...”

Kenjiro did not pick up his words. He took a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket, unfolded it, placed it in the middle of the coffee table, and pushed it toward Kuwata.

On the paper was only a column of deposit certificate numbers, followed by dates and a company name.

”The two in your company’s safe ending in 047 and 048—on September 12, those exact same numbers were also pledged at a company called Maruei Shoji in Shinjuku. The party pledging them was also Chiyoda Kosan.”

The reception room fell silent for quite a while.

Kuwata stared at those two numbers, his complexion turning pale bit by bit.

He remembered those two deposit certificates because they had the largest face value, ten billion each, placed right at the very top of the safe.

And the exact same serial number could not possibly exist on two genuine deposit certificates.

That meant at least one party held fake deposit certificates, or perhaps both did.

He raised his head, wanting to read something from Kenjiro’s face, but the other man simply sat quietly, waiting for him to speak.

Nor did he ask where this document came from. Everyone in Kabutocho knew how many bad debts Saionji had collected outside over the past year, so it was hardly strange that they could track down Maruei Shoji.

”Since... since Mr. Saionji knows all this, why still buy them?”

”Saionji has bought quite a few things like this over the past year.”

Kenjiro took back the sheet of paper and folded it up again.

”Some end up worthless in our hands, while others regain their value in a couple of years. When you buy enough, there are always profits to be made, and we don’t care about this single transaction.”

Kuwata remained silent for a long time. The calculation in his heart had actually been completed the moment he saw those two numbers.

If the deposit certificates were fake, the forty-eight billion lent out by Sankyo would entirely become waste paper, and the company wouldn’t even last through next year.

If the deposit certificates were real, on the maturity date he would still have to take them himself to the counter of the Akasaka Branch and blow the lid off this matter right in front of Fuji.

Whichever it was, the first one to be blown up would be Sankyo.

Now someone was willing to pay money to carry this bomb away along with its box.

”Forty percent.”

Kuwata’s voice was somewhat hoarse, which he noticed himself, so he picked up his tea and took a sip.

”Thirty-five percent. But sign today, pay today.”

As soon as Kenjiro finished speaking, the lawyer behind him opened his briefcase, took out the prepared transfer contracts, and laid them out one by one on the coffee table.

Kuwata looked at those contracts, then glanced at the wall clock—three-forty in the afternoon, with twenty minutes left before the bank closed.

He still picked up his pen.

After signing the last page, Kuwata went to his office in person to open the drawer, carried the small safe back to the reception room, and counted and handed over the twelve deposit certificates one by one in front of the lawyer. Every time the lawyer verified one, he checked it off on the handover form.

When seeing the two off to the elevator entrance, Kuwata bowed even lower than when he had welcomed them.

”Mr. Saionji, thank you for your trouble today. Another day I must certainly invite you to honor me; I have a familiar shop in Ginza...”

”Thank you, President Kuwata. I’ve been busy lately, let’s talk after this period passes.”

After the elevator doors closed, Kuwata stood in the corridor and took out a handkerchief to wipe his neck. For the first two whole months, it was the first time he felt his shoulders relaxed.

Returning to the office, the secretary placed the bank’s deposit notification on his desk.

Exactly 16.8 billion.

Kuwata stared at that number, suddenly let out a laugh, and laughed harder and harder until he couldn’t stop.

The Saionji House had been very prominent outside these past few years, but it seemed they simply had too much money with nowhere to spend it.

As for whether those two deposit certificates with duplicate numbers were real or fake, from now on they could let Saionji have a headache over them themselves.

...

That same night, Hongo.

Kenjiro placed the black briefcase on the desk, opened the clasp, and turned it toward Satsuki.

The twelve deposit certificates were stacked neatly inside, each encased in a transparent document folder.

Satsuki pulled out the topmost one and brought it close to the desk lamp.

Fuji Bank Co., Ltd. Akasaka Branch Time Deposit Certificate

Amount: Ten Billion Yen Even

The depositor column read Chiyoda Kosan Co., Ltd., followed by the Akasaka Branch manager’s seal, the red stamp pad ink pressed down very firmly.

She flipped the certificate over; the back bore the pledge creation commitment letter, likewise stamped with the branch’s seal, with the final line reading: On the maturity date, this bank shall directly pay the deposit to the pledgee.

”What expression did Kuwata have when he signed?”

Kenjiro thought for a moment.

”At first his face turned completely white. After signing he was very cheerful, and even said at the elevator entrance that he wanted to invite me for a drink in Ginza.”

”Then did Uncle go?”

”I didn’t go.”

”What a pity.”

Satsuki put the deposit certificate back into the document folder and sighed.

”Today was probably the happiest day of the year for him; Uncle should have had a drink with him.”

Kenjiro didn’t hear anything funny in those words, but watching Satsuki’s posture as she lowered her head to organize the deposit certificates, a chill inexplicably ran down his back.

Satsuki rearranged the twelve deposit certificates by maturity date, the top two both dated October 28.

”October 28 at nine in the morning, the Akasaka Branch opens.”

She closed the briefcase, pressed the clasp back into place, and looked up at Kenjiro.

”Uncle will take the lawyer and go in first.”

”When you reach the counter, you tell them...”

Satsuki paused intentionally, the corners of her mouth curling up bit by bit, even her final tone turning brisk.

”Saionji has come to withdraw money.”