The same day, 2:40 PM.
Tokyo.
The Saionji family main residence, study room.
Endo spread four newspaper clippings out on the desk.
Each one was secured with a transparent clip, with the date and source noted in red ballpoint pen in the corner.
The first: Kansai Financial Ten-Day Report, November 10th, page 3 — "The Hunt of Tokyo Capital."
The second: An excerpt from the Kyoto Prefecture Chamber of Commerce and Industry internal weekend briefing — quoting the first sentence of the main text.
The third: The economic column of the Kobe local newspaper's afternoon edition — the title had been changed to "Who Will Guard the Account Books of Kansai Manufacturing," signed by a retired former deputy director of the Ministry of Economy.
The content was more intense than the original, directly quoting the four characters "forced to change surnames."
The fourth: A preview directory of a Chamber of Commerce-related magazine titled "Semba, Kitahama, and Marunouchi" — the late November issue will feature a special topic: "Local Autonomy in the Midst of a Credit Crisis."
"Three days," Endo said. "It only took three days from the publication of the first article to the follow-up of the third."
Satsuki sat behind the desk.
Her gaze moved from the first clipping to the fourth, not quickly, reading each one to the end.
"What is the name of the person who signed the Kobe piece?"
"Toshio Maeda. Formerly the deputy director of the economic department at the 'Mainichi Shimbun,' retired six years ago, and is now a freelance writer for several local financial magazines." Endo flipped out an index card. "Whether he has a direct connection to Kitashinchi is currently uncertain. But his circle of contacts before retirement intersected with Yasui."
Satsuki put down the third clipping, her finger pausing for a second on the preview directory of the fourth.
"What is the relationship between the editor of this Chamber of Commerce magazine and Uragami?"
"I checked. The editor-in-chief is the cousin of the former secretary-general of Hakusuikai."
Satsuki smiled slightly.
"They split into three paths," she said.
Endo waited.
"The local financial publication writes about the rules—the old tradition of Kansai commercial autonomy." Satsuki's fingertips tapped across the three clippings in turn. "The Chamber of Commerce magazine writes about the risks—outside capital interfering with the local credit system. The local Kobe newspaper writes about sentiment—the centuries-old roots of Semba."
She paused for a moment.
"It looks like worries written by three different people from three different angles."
Endo was silent for two seconds.
"They wrote with great restraint," he said. "The entire articles do not name names, do not mention Itoman, and do not mention the specific bad debts of Sumitomo Bank. I had the legal department look at them—currently, the wording of these articles stays within the scope of freedom of commentary, and it is difficult to constitute defamation."
"Of course it is difficult." Satsuki leaned back in her chair. "Because they are not defending the bank at all."
Endo looked up.
"Uragami is very smart."
"The bank is already dirty, and the hole at Itoman cannot be plugged. He cannot suppress these facts, so he simply does not try."
"Admitting that the bank has problems, admitting that the financial system has gone wrong. Once this is said, the commentary actually appears fair."
"Then he pours the dirty water into the well of 'Kansai'."
Satsuki reached out and picked up the cup of tea that had gone slightly cold, took one look at it, and put it back down.
"Making everyone feel that the water is dirty, but at least it is our own dirty water. If outsiders come to stir it up, it will only get dirtier."
Endo nodded.
"Is there any movement from Sumitomo Metal today?"
"Uchida did not call," Endo said. "Originally, there should have been a transactional confirmation this afternoon. The secretary's office said that Sumitomo Metal canceled it."
"What about Sumitomo Electric?"
"Kawaguchi did not submit any materials either. He had prepared a batch of Southeast Asian settlement details last week..." Endo paused. "It has been delayed, but he has not given a reason yet."
"Sumitomo Light Metal?"
"It is very quiet over at Hashimoto's."
Satsuki did not show any expression of surprise.
She picked up a pen and drew a horizontal line on the notepad in front of her.
On the left end of the line, she wrote "Bank," and on the right, "Manufacturing." She drew an 'X' in the middle.
"Kanto and Kansai," she put down the pen. "The battlefield chosen by this opponent is more precise than I expected."
Endo leaned forward.
"Things in Japan are often not driven by numbers and laws," Satsuki said. "Especially in Kansai."
She stood up and walked to the bookshelf.
On the third shelf, there was a row of old books, most of which were left behind by Shuichi when he was young.
She pulled out a cloth-bound hardcover volume; the gold-stamped letters on the cover had almost faded away, leaving only the blurred outlines of the words "History of the Kansai Business World."
"Osaka's commercial tradition is much older than Tokyo's." She flipped through a few pages and closed it again. "The wholesaler system in Semba began in the Toyotomi era. The Kitahama rice market was Japan's earliest prototype for futures trading. The Nishijin weaving and Kiyomizu ware of Kyoto—the operational rules for those industrial chains are three hundred years older than the Meiji Restoration."
"But after the Meiji era, money and power flowed to Tokyo. Marunouchi rose, Nihonbashi rose. The government is in Tokyo, the central bank is in Tokyo, the Ministry of Finance is in Tokyo."
"Osaka merchants had their financial discourse power stripped away, but they kept one thing—"
She put the old book back.
"—the rules of doing business."
Endo listened quietly.
"Kansai people believe in 'long-term transactions'—decades, even centuries-old trading relationships."
"If you have done business with me for three generations, I will trust you for three generations. If your father drank with my father, then your credit has an extra layer."
"This kind of thing cannot be written into accounting statements. But in the marketplace of Kansai, it is harder than a bank's credit rating."
Satsuki returned to the desk and sat down.
"This is the card that Uragami is playing."
She picked up the first clipping, her finger stopping on the four characters "forced to change surnames."
"What we are doing in Kansai, from the perspective of financial technology, is compliant at every step. The letters of credit are clean, the bills of lading are modified beautifully, and the margin used is our own US dollars."
"But in Uragami's narrative, all of this is translated into something else—Tokyo people have come to change the rules of Kansai."
She put down the clipping.
"For the manufacturing company presidents, the bank cheated them out of their money, and of course they hate it. But having their undergarments exposed to their faces by people from Tokyo—that, they cannot stand even more."
Endo was silent for a moment.
"Then how do we respond?" he asked. "Should we activate the media channels we can mobilize here in Tokyo?"
Satsuki shook her head.
"Argue with them?" she said. "If we argue, we truly become 'Tokyo Capital.' For every time the three characters 'Saionji' appear in the text, Uragami's narrative wins a point."
"Then what should we do?"
"The pens we keep in Kansai," Satsuki said, "are not for shouting matches with them from afar."
She paused.
"We need to let the Kansai people say it themselves—Saionji is not an outsider."
Endo thought for a moment.
"How do we get them to say that?"
Satsuki did not answer immediately.
Her gaze fell next to the three characters "Marunouchi" on the clipping.
Those three characters had been bolded by the local Kobe newspaper, making them particularly eye-catching.
"They say we are Tokyo Capital."
Satsuki's fingertips lightly traced over those three characters, smiling softly.
"But is the surname 'Saionji' something that grew out of Marunouchi?"
Endo was slightly taken aback.
He realized what she meant.
Saionji.
As a Seiga family, a noble house of the imperial court.
The roots of this surname are in Kyoto.
Its origins can be traced back to the Fujiwara Northern House, Inin lineage.
The Saionji family's name comes from the "Saionji" in Kyoto's Kitayama—the Buddhist temple built by Saionji Kintsune during the Kamakura period (1185–1333).
The Saionji family's old residences, old temples, and old lands in Kyoto are older than the history of Semba, and older than the rice market of Kitahama.
If someone wants to play the "centuries-old roots" card in Kansai, the Saionji family's roots are deeper than any of theirs.
When it comes to comparing seniority with the Saionji family, let alone in Kansai, there are not many in the whole of Japan.
What is more, the Saionji family has more than just its own family name.
Just as Endo was about to speak, the door to the study was gently knocked.
"Come in."
Fujita pushed the door open.
His posture was as upright as usual, his back straight, his gaze leveled forward.
But he stood at the doorway for a beat longer than usual—about half a second.
"Miss," Fujita said, "someone from the Kujo family in Kyoto has arrived."
Satsuki's fingers paused on the clipping.
"The person who came is the lady-in-waiting to the Kujo matriarch." Fujita paused. "Her name is Chizuru Matsumuro."
Endo turned to look at Satsuki.
The Kujo family.
One of the Five Regent Houses.
A top-tier prestigious family among the nobility, second only to the Konoe family.
After the Meiji Restoration, the Kujo family was granted the title of Duke, and like the Saionji family, they are at the very top of the Kazoku.
And the Kujo matriarch—the mother of the current head of the family—is a name that everyone lowers their voice when mentioning in the circles of Kyoto's old nobility.
She does not care about politics, business, or money.
She cares about the rules.
The rules within the circle of the old Kazoku in Kyoto.
Whose daughter can wear a twelve-layered kimono to attend the New Year's ceremony, whose heir can serve as an imperial envoy in the Aoi Matsuri—these things all require her nod of approval.
Satsuki looked at Fujita, her expression unchanged.
She put down the clipping in her hand, covering the line "forced to change surnames."
"Invite her to the Japanese-style room."
"Yes." Fujita exited.
Endo watched Satsuki stand up, stack the four clippings on the desk neatly, and push them to the corner of the desk.
"Did you anticipate this?" he asked.
Satsuki did not answer directly.
She walked to the coat rack, changed out of the wool cardigan she wore in the study, and straightened her collar.
"Mr. Uragami moved the battlefield to Kansai."
She turned back at the door and curved the corners of her mouth.
"Then let Kyoto answer."