Monday, June 17, 1991, 8:40 AM.
In the reception room of the Tokyo Metropolitan Trust Bank's main branch, the coffee had already grown cold.
The Former Marquis Family Head sat on one side of the long table. His tie was still neatly knotted, but there was an unmistakable layer of dark shadows under his eyes.
After leaving the Kasumi Kaikan on Saturday, the people of the nine families went to the Kazanin residence again.
That conversation lasted until dawn.
Some were willing to pull out short-term deposits, some proposed temporarily pledging their collections, and others advocated asking the two trust banks to release the first batch of funds promised by the mutual aid association in advance.
Everyone said they would do their best.
Yet by Monday morning, the cash that could actually be wired into the bank, when added together, was still less than half of the 2.8 billion.
Of course, there were still plenty of other assets.
Ancestral homes, mountain forests, calligraphy and paintings, the Karuizawa villa, and commercial properties jointly held by the families.
The problem was that all these things required evaluation, mortgage establishment, and bank review. It would take at least several weeks.
And the Former Marquis Family Head needed to provide an answer for his loan margin today—which meant he would be the first of these nine families to fall.
Footsteps finally sounded from outside the door.
The Former Marquis Family Head raised his head and saw the Executive Director of the bank walking in with the head of the financing review department, holding a grey folder in his hand.
His gaze lingered on that folder for a moment.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
The Executive Director sat down opposite him and bowed slightly toward him.
The Former Marquis Family Head did not respond, only staring fixedly at the folder.
"Has the board meeting finished?"
"It just ended."
"Then let us hear it."
The Executive Director seemed to want to have the secretary replace the coffee first, but seeing his impatient expression, he had to give up on the idea.
"The bank is willing to continue evaluating the assets provided by the mutual aid fund. However, the mortgage registration has not yet been completed, and the fund itself does not have an independent account, so I am afraid it cannot be used as a source of margin today."
"The procedures are being processed."
The Former Marquis Family Head immediately pushed the stack of documents beside him across.
The pages scattered somewhat as they slid across the table. He reached out to press down on the topmost page and realigned the corners.
"The judicial scrivener already went to the Kazanin family yesterday. The land in Karuizawa, the securities of two companies, and three family guarantees are all here. Fifteen days, fifteen days at most, and the registration can—"
The Executive Director raised his hand.
The movement was very light, but it blocked right in front of that stack of documents.
"The bank is already aware of these circumstances."
The Former Marquis Family Head's words stopped midway.
He lowered his head and looked at his materials.
The guarantee letter of intent on top had only been delivered by someone at three o'clock Sunday morning. To wait for that signature, he had sat in the study of the Kazanin residence for a full two hours.
Now the other party was not even willing to open it and take a look.
"Since you are aware, then keep waiting."
He tried hard to control his emotions and looked up at the Executive Director.
The Executive Director still did not touch the stack of documents.
"The bank can continue evaluating the fund's assets."
He slowly opened the grey folder.
"However, Saionji Finance's formal offer was already submitted to the board of directors at eight o'clock this morning."
The reception room fell silent for a moment.
The Former Marquis Family Head's gaze followed the opening of the folder and fell upon the offer inside.
He did not reach out, or rather, he lacked the courage to look.
The head of the financing review department had no choice but to turn the document around and push it in front of him.
The acquisition price on the paper was higher than the book principal.
The evaluation fees, lawyer fees, and preservation fees paid by the bank over the past few months were also factored in by Saionji.
As long as Tokyo Metropolitan Trust signed, the funds could arrive within this week.
Every single number was written clearly.
Unlike the mutual aid fund's promises, there was no "being processed," nor any "awaiting evaluation."
The Former Marquis Family Head stared at the offer for a long time.
The light fell on the paper, somewhat glaring. He raised a hand to adjust his glasses, and only when his fingertips touched the frame did he realise his hands were trembling slightly.
"The dishes on Saturday night have not even been fully served yet, and her money is already on the way."
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but not a shred of amusement could be seen on his face.
The Executive Director lowered his gaze.
"Saionji has prepared very thoroughly."
"You certainly make it sound easy for her."
"I did not mean that."
The Former Marquis Family Head raised his head and stared at the face he had known for over thirty years.
The Executive Director's hair had turned quite a bit white, but he still remembered what the other person looked like when he first came to his family's residence.
At that time, this young clerk sat in the spot closest to the door in the study. When taking the teacup, both of his hands were so stiff that he could not even speak a complete sentence.
Yet his father thought he was steady in his work and later even wrote a letter personally to introduce him to several bank directors in Tokyo.
"How many years have our family and Tokyo Metropolitan Trust cooperated?"
"Thirty-seven years."
"Heh, you still remember."
He nodded, but the smile on his face was already gone.
"When my father contacted regional trusts for you, you were still at a branch. The year you came to the house, you did not even dare to decide where to sit by yourself; the steward had to lead you into the study."
The Executive Director was silent for a moment.
"I remember."
"Later when you were transferred back to Tokyo, it was also my father who wrote the introduction letter."
"Yes."
The Former Marquis Family Head grasped his walking stick and leaned his body forward slightly.
"Then wait fifteen days."
He spoke very slowly, every word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.
"I did not ask the bank to waive the interest, nor did I ask you to take a single penny less. Fifteen days—wait for the mortgage registration to be completed, wait for the mutual aid fund to wire the money in."
The Executive Director remained silent.
The Former Marquis Family Head waited for a moment.
He had originally thought the other party would at least say, "I will go try again." Even if it were just perfunctory, he could temporarily treat it as a way out.
Yet the Executive Director never spoke up.
The calm barely maintained on the Former Marquis Family Head's face finally cracked a little.
"What?"
He looked at the other person.
"Not even fifteen days?"
"Your Excellency, this is not something I personally can—"
"I know it is not you personally."
The Former Marquis Family Head suddenly interrupted him.
"None of you do anything personally anymore. Whose tea you drank is not personal, whose introduction letter you received is not personal, but when it comes to collecting money, everyone can hide behind the board of directors."
By the end of his words, his breathing was already somewhat unstable.
The tie knot suddenly felt as if it were choked too tight. He raised a hand wanting to loosen it, but when his fingers touched the collar, he abruptly stopped.
He could not show vulnerability here.
At least not in front of this junior.
The apology that the Executive Director had constantly maintained on his face slowly faded away.
"If the bank rejects Saionji's offer, it must explain to the shareholders why it gave up the cash that could arrive this week to wait for a fund that does not even have an account yet."
"Then you tell them that Tokyo Metropolitan Trust still knows what credit is."
"Your credit, the bank has never doubted."
"Is that not enough?"
After this slipped out, the Former Marquis Family Head himself was stunned for a moment.
The Executive Director fell silent as well.
Only the ticking sound of the wall clock remained in the reception room.
The Former Marquis Family Head slowly pulled back his body and sat up straight again. It was as if he wanted to take back that nearly pleading remark from just now. The corners of his lips moved, but he said nothing.
The Executive Director looked at him, his voice lowering.
"Your Excellency, your credit cannot be filled into the margin column."
The Former Marquis Family Head stared at him.
The Executive Director did not avoid his gaze.
After a long time, he continued:
"What Saionji sent is cash."
After these words fell, the Former Marquis Family Head never spoke again.
Thirty-seven years of dealings, the introduction letter written personally by his father, and the nine seals from Saturday night suddenly all became trivial.
So light they could not even outweigh those few sheets of offer paper on the table.
He lowered his head to pack up his materials.
The first sheet was not aligned with the documents below. He straightened it once, but it was still crooked. He had no choice but to pull it out again and put it back in its original place.
The head of the financing review department seemed to want to help, but just as his hand stretched out a bit, he stopped again.
"No need."
The Former Marquis Family Head closed the folder.
When he raised his head again, the expression on his face had returned to calm.
"Before three o'clock this afternoon, I will make up the funds."
The Executive Director looked at him, seemingly wanting to advise him not to make any more futile attempts.
The Former Marquis Family Head had already stood up.
"Hold another board meeting then."
Leaning on his walking stick, he walked toward the door.
His steps were still steady, but as he reached the door, the cane landed a bit off, its tip grazing the doorframe with a subdued, soft clink.
The Former Marquis Family Head stopped, gripped his cane tightly, and brought it back to his side.
"The funds from Saionji should arrive this week, right?"
"Yes."
"Then have the board of directors wait until three o'clock."
His hand was already on the doorknob.
"This time, at least do not take away even the last fifteen minutes."
After coming out of the bank, he made more than twenty phone calls in the car.
At first, he would still exchange a few polite pleasantries.
By the seventh call, he no longer had the mood to ask about the other party's family situation; after the twelfth call, even the secretary stopped organising his phrasing for him, simply writing down the numbers one by one on a piece of paper and handing it over.
The Kazanin family was willing to fork over two hundred million, but the mortgage on Karuizawa was still being appraised.
Another family agreed to sell securities, but settlement would take until the next day at the earliest.
After the call to the Kuga Family went through, there was a continuous sound of wooden crates being dragged across the floor in the background.
After listening to his request, the head of the Kuga Family did not reply for a long time.
"I have run into some trouble over here as well."
"Paperwork?"
"Yeah."
A weary sigh came from the other end of the phone.
"The cultural foundation originally scheduled to pick up the items suddenly said today that they wanted to reassess transportation and insurance. Dozens of crates in the yard are still waiting."
The Former Marquis Family Head glanced at the bank's front doors outside the window.
"Then take care of your matters first."
"Your Excellency..."
"Since we agreed that all families would bear it together, I certainly cannot have you tear off your own roof and sell it to me the moment I speak up."
He said it like a joke, but neither side of the phone laughed.
After hanging up, he did not write any numbers on the list, only drawing a short dash next to the Kuga Family's name.
Past noon, he finally contacted a trading company president he had known for many years.
"Your Excellency, I can personally lend you two hundred million."
The Former Marquis Family Head held the receiver and fell silent for a moment.
"Personally?"
"Yes."
"And the company?"
There was a long delay before the other end of the line answered.
The Former Marquis Family Head closed his eyes briefly.
"Do not tell me your board of directors is also in a meeting."
The other person gave a wry smile.
"Saionji Trading submitted the list of nine families to the cooperative risk notification this morning. Any new credit involving the families on the list must be reviewed individually."
"So you even have to give me two hundred million in your own name?"
"Precisely because we have known each other for twenty-seven years, I dare to offer these two hundred million."
"Twenty-seven years."
The Former Marquis Family Head repeated it, his voice carrying no trace of whether he was smiling or angry.
"You remember things much clearer than a bank."
"Your Excellency..."
"Forget it."
Without listening to the other person's explanation any further, he hung up directly.
At two-fifty in the afternoon, a total of 1.23 billion yen had been wired into the designated account.
The secretary was still dialling continuously.
The last few families no longer had their heads answer personally. Some claimed to be out of town, some said the bank temporarily requested supplementary materials, and one simply had their secretary pass along a message that their funds already had other arrangements for the afternoon.
The secretary put down one phone and immediately picked up another.
"There is also the Matsudaira family. They mentioned this morning that we could ask again—"
The Former Marquis Family Head raised his hand and pressed down on the phone base.
The secretary's hand stopped mid-air.
"Your Excellency, there are still ten minutes left."
"Enough."
"But right now we are only—"
"I said enough."
His voice was not loud, but the secretary did not move again.
The Former Marquis Family Head looked down at the account summary.
1.23 billion.
Every single transaction was followed by a name. Some were relatives, some were old friends, and two came from family-owned companies that were hardly well-off to begin with.
Gathering these funds together, it was still less than half of what the bank required.
He slowly folded the paper.
The first time, it was not folded evenly.
He unfolded it again and folded it once more along the original crease.
"Return the borrowed money."
The secretary froze.
"Your Excellency, it is not three o'clock yet."
The Former Marquis Family Head looked toward the main entrance of Todo Trust.
People in front of the door were still coming and going, and no one spared this car a second glance.
"1.23 billion cannot buy fifteen days."
Saying this, he paused for a moment.
"Continuing to call will only drag more people down to lose face with me."
"Your Excellency..."
"Return it."
He placed his cane back beside him.
"Calculate the interest as usual. Do not let a single person who was willing to lend money today suffer a loss."
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
"Return to the estate?"
The Former Marquis Family Head looked out the window.
The clock tower of Todo Trust happened to chime the hour.
Three strikes.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat.
"Let us go back."
When the sedan drove away from the bank, he did not look back again.
When returning to the estate in the evening, the moving company's truck was parked in the yard once more.
The wheels crushed over the gravel path, making a faint, crisp sound. Several workers were moving furniture out from the side door, and the old steward stood under the entryway holding a clipboard.
Hearing the car stop, the old man immediately hurried over.
"Your Excellency."
When getting out of the car, the Former Marquis Family Head's steps were a bit slower than usual.
He raised his eyes to look at the open main entrance. The spot in the entryway where the flower arrangement used to be was now empty, and the painting on the wall had also been taken away, leaving only a slightly lighter rectangular mark.
"How much more has been moved?"
The old steward weighed his words.
"Your Excellency, the bank added an appendix inventory this afternoon."
The Former Marquis Family Head looked at the clipboard in his hand.
"Give it to me."
The old steward hesitated for a moment before handing the clipboard over.
The items on the list were not particularly precious.
The bronze lamp on the porch, the old desk in the study, several wooden cabinets in the warehouse, and even the wooden plaque with the family crest outside the entryway were listed among them.
The gaze of the Former Marquis Family Head lingered on the last line.
Footsteps came from inside the yard.
A young worker was holding that wooden plaque as he came out of the entryway. The edge of the plaque had a blue numbered paper from the bank stuck to it, and the knot that originally hung on the front door still dangled at the back, swaying gently with his steps.
The Former Marquis Family Head reached out almost instinctively.
"Wait."
Suddenly called out to, the worker immediately stopped in his tracks.
The Former Marquis Family Head's hand pressed against the edge of the wooden plaque.
Eroded by rain and sunlight for decades, the wood did not feel smooth to the touch. In the centre of the family crest was a very shallow crack, left behind after a typhoon more than a decade ago.
He still remembered his father standing by the door back then, saying the crack was not deep and there was no need to replace it.
"Does this need to be moved too?"
He looked toward the old steward.
The old steward lowered his head.
"The appraisal company listed it under fixtures, saying it was registered together with the estate."
"The estate has not been sold yet."
"Yes."
"Then why take even the plaque away first?"
The old steward had no way to answer.
Holding the wooden plaque, the worker wore a look of obvious unease. He probably only knew how to follow the list and had no idea why the object in his hands caused the old man before him to refuse to let go for so long.
The palm of the Former Marquis Family Head pressed against the family crest.
Every time he returned from Kyoto as a child, the very first thing he saw was this plaque.
On the day of his father's funeral, it was pouring rain. When the car turned into the courtyard gate, through the rain-soaked glass, he had also seen this place first.
The family had changed stewards, repaired the roof, and sold off several pieces of land.
Only this plaque had always remained hanging there.
As if as long as it was still by the door, this estate was still their home.
"Your Excellency?"
The worker called out to him cautiously.
The Former Marquis Family Head snapped back to reality.
He saw that his hand was still blocking the wooden plaque, and several workers were standing in the yard waiting.
"Go ahead and move it."
He slowly loosened his hand.
Looking relieved, the young worker hugged the plaque and walked toward the truck.
Just as he had taken a few steps, the Former Marquis Family Head called out to him again.
"Wait."
The worker turned his head back.
The Former Marquis Family Head looked at the worn family crest at the corner of the wooden plaque, his lips moving.
"Do not put it at the bottom."
In the end, he only uttered this single sentence.
"Place it a bit higher."