The air was thick with the smell of floor wax rising off the wooden boards, mingled with the layered scents of antiperspirants and perfumes from hundreds of boys and girls.
This was the opening ceremony for the second semester of the high school division.
Outside the windows, the cicadas still rasped, but the feverish restlessness of midsummer had begun to recede. In its place, an unsettling chill crept in with the autumn wind.
"...We must greet the new semester with hearts full of gratitude..."
The principal's voice came through the microphone on the podium, crackling faintly with static.
Below, the black stand-up collar uniforms of the boys and the deep blue blazers of the girls were neatly divided, yet blurred by certain subtle, fleeting glances.
But beneath that surface of order, a cold current was quietly spreading through the ranks.
Countless gazes drifted — seemingly without intent — toward the front of the formation.
Ezaki Mariko stood there.
Two months ago, this daughter of the Apex Group's president had been a star at Seika. Daughters of prestigious families had flocked to her, dreaming of unlisted stocks. Young masters from financial cliques had crowded around, hoping to pry political donations or insider information from her father through her.
Now, an invisible vacuum with a two-meter radius had formed around her.
Mariko kept her head down, staring intently at the tips of her shoes.
The gold watch she used to wear was gone, replaced by a cheap leather one that matched the school dress code. Her skirt had been let down to cover her knees. The large, meticulously styled waves she'd worn last semester were now tied into a simple ponytail, the ends dry and split.
"Did you hear? The Special Investigation Department went to her house yesterday."
Several boys in the back row lowered their voices. They were sons of construction magnates — usually the best informed.
"Seriously? Then her dad…"
"Shh — don't get involved. My old man said their family's stock is a ticking time bomb now. Even the politicians in the Takeshita Faction are scrambling to cut ties. Why should small fry like us get dragged in?"
The faint whispers buzzed around her ears like flies.
Standing beside Mariko were the "sisters" who had once been her closest friends, and several boys who used to compete for her attention. Now they leaned as far to the other side as they could, as if avoiding a plague. Their eyes refused to linger on her for even a second.
In this prestigious co-ed school where family background and interest networks were everything, losing power was more terrifying than bankruptcy. Bankruptcy only meant you had no money. Losing power meant social death — for you and your entire family.
Mariko clenched her fists. Her nails dug deep into her palms.
Why…? It wasn't like this just a few days ago… What did I do wrong?
The people who had once put her on a pedestal now couldn't wait to grind her into the mud.
The principal on stage finally finished his long-winded speech.
The piano began to play. It was the prelude to the school song.
The students started singing along with the music.
Mariko opened her mouth, but her throat felt sealed shut. No sound came out.
A tear fell and hit the polished floor, shattering instantly.
---
Lunchtime, 12:30 PM.
The back courtyard of Seika Academy.
On a bench beneath the wisteria trellis, dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering irregular patches of light across the ground.
This had once been the gathering spot for the core members of the "Rose Society," a place boys would invent excuses to pass by, just to steal a glance at the young ladies.
Today, it was desolate.
Mariko sat alone at the corner of the bench, holding a yakisoba bread she'd bought from a convenience store. A month ago, she wouldn't have spared it a glance. Now, it was her lunch.
On the distant playground, a few boys were playing soccer — the same followers who once fought to show off in front of her. The ball rolled near the trellis. When they ran over and saw Mariko, their eyes held only coldness and disgust. They didn't even nod before turning and running off.
The ones who had taken her stocks now loathed her most of all. Because of those stocks, their homes were in chaos. Entire families might fall because of it.
Of course, they'd conveniently forgotten their own greedy faces from before.
And Mariko had no energy to spare for them. She stared blankly at the bread in her hands.
Her home was already in shambles. Her father spent every day on the phone with lawyers. Her mother wept from morning to night. The bank had frozen part of their accounts, and the luxury stores that used to fawn over her wouldn't even extend credit anymore.
She didn't understand. She truly didn't. Wasn't her family's company stable? Wasn't it supposed to be a sure thing — cash out as soon as it went public? Why had it turned out like this?
"Is this seat taken?"
A clear, gentle voice came from above.
Mariko looked up sharply.
Backlit by the sun, she saw a slender silhouette.
Saionji Satsuki stood there holding two cans of chilled oolong tea, smiling down at her.
"S… Saionji-san?"
Mariko shot to her feet, nearly dropping her bread. She instinctively smoothed her skirt, trying to hide her non-designer shoes.
Of all people… she didn't want her to see her like this.
"You… why would you…"
"I saw you were here alone."
Satsuki sat down at the other end of the bench and set one can of oolong tea between them.
Condensation slid down the metal, leaving a dark ring of moisture on the wooden slat.
"Sit."
Mariko sat tremulously, only daring to take up half the seat.
At a time when every boy and girl in school avoided her like the plague, the unattainable eldest daughter of the Saionji Family was willing to sit beside her.
"It's been… very hard lately, hasn't it?"
Satsuki's voice was soft, like a spring breeze skimming a lake.
Those words broke the last of Mariko's defenses.
"Ugh…"
A sound like a drowning person's gasp escaped her throat. Her back bent involuntarily. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but the tears still burst out.
"Saionji-san… I really don't know what to do anymore…"
Mariko cried until her shoulders shook, all the fear and grievance she'd bottled up exploding at once.
"Papa… Papa's been summoned by the Special Investigation Department three times. Our home phone line's been cut. Reporters are camped at our gate… The bank says they're going to call in the loans. If we can't repay that bridge loan by next week, Papa will be arrested…"
"Those people… the ones who took the stocks before — now every single one of them says our family cheated them… But they were the greedy ones…"
Satsuki listened quietly. She drew a snow-white handkerchief from her pocket and offered it.
An exquisite family crest was embroidered in one corner.
"Wipe your eyes."
Mariko took it like a lifeline.
"Saionji-san, can… can you help us?"
She looked up, her eyes filled with desperate hope.
"I know the Saionji Family has influence in both politics and finance… Even if it's just saying a word to the bank… I'm begging you…"
Satsuki looked at the girl who had once been infinitely radiant and was now as humble as dust.
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, she reached out, her slender fingers tapping lightly on the pull-tab of the oolong tea.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Mariko."
Satsuki spoke, shifting from "Ezaki-san" to the more intimate "Mariko."
"I really do want to help you. We're classmates, after all."
She sighed, her face showing just the right amount of difficulty.
"But you know as well as I do — at a time like this, anyone who touches the name 'Apex' will get burned. Even my father doesn't dare make a statement lightly in the middle of this storm."
The light in Mariko's eyes died instantly.
"However…"
Satsuki's tone shifted.
"If it's purely a commercial transaction, there might be a way."
"C-Commercial… transaction?" Mariko stared, confused.
"I heard your family's 'Apex Real Estate' holds several plots of reclaimed land along the Tokyo Bay coast?"
Satsuki turned to look at Mariko. Her eyes were full of concern, but in the shadow of the wisteria, they looked impossibly deep.
Mariko nodded. "Y-Yes… yes. Papa bought them the year before last. He said he wanted to build the future headquarters in Odaiba… but the project's been halted now."
"Since it's halted, it's a non-performing asset."
Satsuki picked up her oolong tea and pulled the tab.
Psst—
The hiss of escaping carbonation was sharp in the quiet courtyard.
"If that land stays in your hands, the bank will keep its eyes on your cash flow. But if you liquidate it…"
Satsuki took a sip, feeling the icy liquid slide down her throat.
"Saionji Industries happens to have some idle capital right now. There's a lot of opposition on the board — they think the risk of taking over Apex assets is irrationally high at the moment… but I can try to persuade my father."
She turned, giving Mariko a compassionate, savior-like smile.
"We can buy that land. Cash payment."
"This money will be enough for you to repay the bank loans and plug the holes in your books. Once the holes are plugged, the Special Investigation Department won't have a reason to arrest anyone — at least for now."
Mariko stared blankly at Satsuki.
Even if she didn't understand business, she knew that land was what her father valued most. It was the future hope of the Apex Group.
"But… Papa said that land will be very valuable in the future…"
"The future?"
Satsuki gave a soft laugh.
She reached out and gently smoothed Mariko's messy bangs.
"Mariko, do you think Apex still has a 'future'?"
The witch's voice was impossibly gentle.
Mariko shuddered.
It was true.
If they couldn't get through this week, her father would go to prison. If the company went bankrupt, no matter how valuable the land was, it would belong to the bank.
"Mariko, you need to understand one thing."
"Right now, for your father, that land isn't an asset. It's 'evidence of a crime.' As long as it stays under the Apex name, the Special Investigation Department will keep watching it, and the public will believe you're still hoarding wealth."
She leaned in slightly, her clear eyes meeting Mariko's tear-filled ones.
"Only cash — clean, immediate cash — can become restitution, bail, and the 'sincerity' that makes the prosecutors close their files."
"Although my financial advisor told me that taking over Apex assets right now is like catching a falling knife, and the risk is irrationally high…"
Satsuki sighed, her face showing just the right amount of helplessness, as if logic itself was forcing her to act against her own interests for a friend.
"But I can't just stand by and watch."
"I'll persuade the board. Using the S.A. name as a guarantee, I'll take over that 'hot potato.'"
She took the handkerchief from Mariko's trembling hand and gently wiped the tear tracks from the corners of her eyes. Her movements were tender, as if she were polishing a piece of exquisite porcelain that would soon belong to her.
"Though the price will probably be very low — after all, besides us, no one dares to touch this right now."
"You should go back and discuss it with your father. It won't be too late to give me an answer after that."
Mariko looked at Satsuki.
In that moment, the girl before her seemed to glow with a holy light.
"Thank you… thank you, Saionji-san!"
Mariko gripped Satsuki's hand tightly, weeping with gratitude.
"I… I'll go home right now and tell Papa! You're our savior! Truly!"
"Go on, then."
Satsuki patted the back of her hand.
"Hurry. The bank isn't known for its patience."
Mariko grabbed her schoolbag and, forgetting her lunch entirely, stumbled toward the school gate.
Satsuki sat on the bench, watching her retreating figure.
She picked up the forgotten yakisoba bread and tossed it casually into the nearby trash can.
Clatter.
"How pitiful."
She said it softly, her tone still full of worldly compassion.
She took out her portable notebook and placed a neat checkmark next to the entry: "Odaiba Development Plan."
Saionji Tower (Candidate Site: TBD)