activa-t Chapter 37 The Eve
Chapter 37 The Eve
It didn't snow in Tokyo on the last day of 1986.
But the cold, like mercury, seeped into every crevice of this old mansion in Bunkyo Ward. However, unlike last year's New Year's Eve, this year's cold was firmly kept out of the heavy window frames by an intense, irresistible heat and fragrance.
Steam filled the main kitchen of the family home.
Three enormous iron pots were placed over a raging fire, their lids bouncing and jumping with the boiling steam. The air was filled with the savory aroma of bonito broth, the oily fragrance of freshly cooked tempura, and the unique sweet scent of simmering red beans.
"Quick! That Ise lobster needs to be steamed for another two minutes!"
"Where are the black beans? Are the black beans from Tanba cooked yet? They need to be cooked until the skin is shiny!"
"Warm that bottle of Daiginjo! The master will be taking his seat soon!"
The maids, dressed in snow-white starched aprons and carrying lacquerware trays, moved swiftly through the deep red carpeted corridor. Their faces were filled with a rosy, joyful glow, befitting a "prosperous age."
With the "awakening" of the young lady, the Saionji family is thriving. This month's bonus is equivalent to three months' salary.
In the main room, the underfloor heating was already turned up to the maximum.
Shuichi, dressed in a dark blue silk kimono with a thick haori draped over it, sat upright in the main seat.
Before him was a huge rosewood table.
The table was covered with layers of lacquerware boxes—these were "Osechi Ryori," an essential dish for the Japanese New Year.
The first layer consists of black beans, symbolizing diligence and health. Each bean is round and plump, shimmering with a black pearl-like luster.
The second layer is herring roe, symbolizing a large family with many children and grandchildren. The golden fish eggs are crystal clear under the light.
The third layer features the Ise lobster, symbolizing longevity. It is fiery red all over, with its whiskers pointing outwards, giving it a majestic appearance.
There was also perfectly grilled sea bream, thinly sliced premium tuna belly, and chestnut puree garnished with gold leaf...
A dazzling array of goods, the most luxurious of all.
Xiuyi looked at the table full of dishes, somewhat dazed.
He subconsciously touched the cushion beneath him. It was a high-quality piece from Nishijin-ori in Kyoto, filled with the softest silk.
"Father, why aren't you picking up your chopsticks?"
Satsuki sat opposite him.
Today she wore a pink furisode kimono, and her hair was styled in a traditional peach-shaped bun, adorned with a coral hairpin. She looked exquisitely beautiful, like a delicate doll.
"Ah... I just suddenly remembered, this time last year."
Shuichi picked up his chopsticks, but instead of taking the lobster, he picked up a piece of the most ordinary kelp roll.
"Family discord...tight cash flow...just maintaining a semblance of civility is already a struggle..."
"At that time, I was already thinking that the Saionji family's century-old legacy was about to be ruined in my hands."
Shuichi put the kelp roll into his mouth and chewed it slowly.
The salty and savory flavor of kelp melts on the tip of the tongue.
"I'll never forget that taste in my life."
"Suffering is the best seasoning." Satsuki picked up the juice in front of her and gently shook it. "It is because of last year's suffering that this year's lobsters are especially sweet."
She reached out with her chopsticks and picked up a golden-brown, crispy fried shrimp tail.
"Father, please don't look back anymore. Your neck will get sore."
"We are now sitting on a mountain of gold."
Xiu smiled.
The bitterness was gone from that smile; there was only a calm, even somewhat languid, satisfaction.
"Yes, Jinshan."
He turned his head and looked at the old butler standing to the side serving him.
"Fujita."
"Yes, sir." Fujita remained ramrod straight, holding a sake pot in his hands.
"Don't stand there. Tonight is New Year's Eve, there are no outsiders here."
Xiu Yi pointed to the empty seat next to him.
"Sit down. Have a drink with me."
"This...this is against the rules..." Fujita said, somewhat alarmed.
"What rules? There are no outsiders here." Xiu waved his hand. "You've worked hard this year too. Running around Akasaka and contacting Shanghai, it's a miracle that your old bones haven't fallen apart."
"Please sit down, Grandpa Fujita," Satsuki said with a smile. "Father is in a good mood today, so it would be disrespectful if you didn't drink."
Fujita's eyes welled up with tears.
He shakily put down the wine pot and knelt down at the corner of the table.
"Well... please forgive my overstepping my bounds."
Shuichi personally picked up the sake pot and poured Fujita a cup of toso sake.
The aroma of herbs mingled with the rich flavor of rice wine, spreading through the air.
"Cheers."
The three raised their glasses.
This glass of wine is a toast to escaping death, a toast to making a comeback.
After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere gradually warmed up.
A television set was moved into the main hall, and NHK's national program, "Kohaku Uta Gassen," was playing on the screen.
The stage was brightly lit, and singers in extravagant costumes were performing with all their might. The audience below waved glow sticks, and their cheers were so enthusiastic that you could feel the fervor even through the screen.
"By the way, Fujita."
Xiu Yi picked up a piece of fish cake and asked casually.
"Any news from Kenshiro's side?"
Upon hearing that name, Fujita paused in his drinking motion.
"Reporting to you, sir," Fujita put down his wine cup, his tone turning somewhat cold, "I heard from an acquaintance in Osaka a few days ago that young master Kenjiro and his family have moved to Tokyo."
"Oh? You're in Tokyo?" Shuichi was somewhat surprised. "He even has the money to rent an apartment in Tokyo?"
"Minami Senju lives in Arakawa Ward."
Fujita lowered his voice.
"That's a slum. The rented rooms are old wooden houses with no bathrooms and shared toilets. I heard... it's because they owed money to loan sharks in Osaka, got splashed with red paint, and couldn't stand it anymore, so they fled to Tokyo."
"Right now, it seems like I'm doing odd jobs on a construction site, carrying cement every day."
Shuichi tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table.
Minami-Senju. It's the lowest corner of Tokyo, filled with homeless people and daily wage laborers.
The younger brother who used to drive sports cars, drink imported liquor, and act all high and mighty is now carrying cement there.
"And that sister-in-law..." Fujita hesitated for a moment, but still said it, "I heard she works as a cleaner in a small pachinko parlor not far from there."
Shuichi fell silent.
Looking at the table full of delicacies, he pictured Kenshiro in dirty overalls, carrying cement in the cold wind.
That was his younger brother.
"Master..." Fujita asked tentatively, "Should we... send someone to deliver some New Year's goods? After all, it's New Year's Eve..."
Xiu Yi raised his glass and looked at the clear liquid inside.
In the reflection, his eyes were calm yet somewhat indifferent.
"No need."
Shuichi drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.
"He chose this path himself. I reminded him many times before. We're all adults, and we need to be responsible for ourselves."
"Let him carry cement."
Xiu Yi put down his wine glass, his voice completely calm.
"That's the best way to bring him to his senses. If you give him money now, he'll be gambling away all his money at the tables again in less than three days."
"Since the branches and leaves are already rotten, once they've been cut off, there's no point in picking them up again."
"Yes." Fujita lowered his head and said no more.
Satsuki listened quietly to the sound, a faint smile playing on her lips.
She was pleased with her father's reaction.
Mercy is the privilege of the strong, but excessive mercy is the epitaph of foolishness. In this impending battlefield, the Saionji family has no need for superfluous tenderness.
"Look, it's Nakamori Akina."
Satsuki pointed to the television screen, changing the subject.
On the screen, the teenage idol with a bob haircut and somewhat melancholy eyes walked out.
The music suddenly became more intense.
Desire -Passion-.
Akina Nakamori, dressed in a modified kimono with exaggerated shoulder pads, danced with powerful movements while singing in her slightly husky voice:
"Get up, Get up, Get up, Burning love..."
"Fall in love tonight..."
There was a wild, burning desire in her eyes. It wasn't the gentleness of a traditional Japanese woman, but a naked, all-consuming life force.
"This song will win the grand prize this year."
Satsuki took a bite of the strawberry and said confidently.
"Why?" Shuichi looked at the somewhat wild girl on TV, not quite understanding. "I think Sachiko Kobayashi's outfit is more glamorous."
"Because this song is about this era."
Satsuki stared at Akina Nakamori's eyes on the screen, eyes that seemed to burn with flames.
Everyone wants more. They want love, they want money, they want to burn.
"This hysterical passion is exactly what the Japanese want to vent right now."
Xiu nodded. Although he didn't quite understand the lyrics of those young people's songs, he understood the logic behind them.
emptiness.
That was the biggest byproduct of the bubble economy. The richer you are, the emptier you feel. And what fills that void, whether it's an expensive handbag or the voice of an idol, is essentially a commodity.
"Ding-dong!"
The sound of the time announcement came from the television.
The scene then cut to temples in various locations.
The deep, resonant chimes echoed across the entire archipelago through the screen.
The New Year's Eve bell.
One hundred and eight times.
Eliminate a worry in one go.
"clang--"
The first bell rang.
Xiu Yi stood up, walked to the French windows, and drew back the heavy curtains.
Outside the window, the once pitch-black night sky was suddenly illuminated by countless rising fireworks.
These weren't the large-scale, official fireworks displays, but rather the small fireworks lit by countless ordinary families in their own yards and on their balconies.
Red, green, and gold.
They rise and fall, blooming in the cold night sky, brief yet converging into a dazzling galaxy.
This is Tokyo.
This is Tokyo at the last moment of 1986.
People are celebrating. People are reveling. People are looking forward to waking up tomorrow morning to find their stocks have gone up and their houses have appreciated in value.
"It's been 1987 years."
Xiuyi looked at the fireworks filling the sky and said softly.
Happy New Year, Father.
Satsuki walked to his side and stood beside him.
Happy New Year, Satsuki.
Shuichi reached out and put his arm around his daughter's shoulder.
"Are you ready?"
"Um."
Satsuki nodded.
Her pupils reflected the exploding fireworks, like countless gold coins dancing in the air.
……
It's 1 a.m.
The hustle and bustle has faded, and the mansion has returned to tranquility.
The servants had already gone to rest. Shuichi, having drunk quite a bit, also went to his room to sleep early.
Second floor, Satsuki's room.
The main lights weren't on; only a Taiwanese-style Tiffany stained glass lamp was lit. Its warm yellow light spilled onto the desk, illuminating the open diary.
This black leather diary is what she started writing in from the very first day she was reborn.
It doesn't record the girl's secrets or the school's gossip.
It was filled with numbers, charts, and past or future time points.
Plaza Accord.
Black Monday.
The Gulf War.
The foam bursts...
Satsuki sat at the table, holding a Montblanc pen in her hand.
She turned a new page.
The header shows the date: January 1, 1987.
She took a deep breath, and the pen tip touched the paper, making a scratching sound.
She didn't write any "New Year's wishes".
She only wrote one line.
The handwriting was somewhat messy, with sharp strokes, exuding a chilling murderous aura.
[1987. The wind rises. The hunting season officially begins.]
She paused after writing that line.
Then, she drew another picture below.
It was a simple line drawing.
A huge, fat pig is being blown into the sky by a gust of wind. It has a silly, happy smile on its face and is clutching a wad of banknotes in its hand.
On the ground, in the very center of the eye of the storm.
It depicts a crocodile with its mouth wide open.
The crocodile's eyes are open.
Satsuki looked at the painting, a childlike yet incredibly cruel smile curving her lips.
"Fly!"
She spoke softly to the air.
"Fly higher."
"The higher it goes... the more it shatters."
She closed her diary with a soft "snap".
Then, she turned off the lamp.
The room was plunged into darkness.
Outside the window, the first gust of wind of the new year was howling across the rooftops of Bunkyo Ward, blowing toward the enormous Colosseum called "Tokyo".