"Renji, before we go to KHX, go to the Tsukiji outer market—" Reika gave her order calmly, as if she were naming a café instead.
"Okie-dokie ma'am…" Renji nods, but Shira turned her head to her, clearly not expecting this detour.
"…Reika-sama… what business do you have there…?"
"Well, take a look at this."
She took out a folder out and handed it to Shira.
"…This is… our annual fund report…?"
"Read boardman Murakami's page."
Shira scanned it quickly. The numbers indicating a steady revenue and asset acquisition, defaulted loans converted into property—stabilization fund performance exceeding projection.
After a moment, Shira tilted her head, "…What is wrong with it? He is doing well. His numbers are the highest this quarter."
"Around January. Last year, I ordered logistics to supply raw materials at reduced cost to several seafood shops in Tsukiji."
"Yes. I remember."
"After reading his report, I checked the name again yesterday." Reika slid another sheet to her. "One of them had taken a loan from Murakami's line eight months prior."
"…Maybe the owner trying to secure fund to expand—"
"—Maybe, I'll see it with my own eyes."
"… Reika-sama… don't tell me you're going to interfere with the loan." Shira's voice carried the exasperated weight of someone who already knew the answer.
"I'm the one who decided to help that district. Why did one of our members suddenly think he could take advantage of it?"
"Haaah…" A long, restrained sigh escapes Shira's lips as she returns the folder back to Reika.
Renji hands still on the wheel, tilted his head slightly while listening in the background, a wry smile ghosting over his lips.
What a wonderful conversation to start the day…
10 minutes later, they turned into an older district of Tokyo where the buildings felt more nostalgic. The alley was cramped with stacked, various seafood products. Plastic tarps flapped overhead, filtering the morning light into a muted haze.
Vendors barked prices in hoarse voices, their words colliding with the wet slap of knives against cutting boards and the conversations from every people present in this confined space.
Renji parked the car to the side, the smell hit him the moment he opened the door.
"Ugh!!"
It wasn't just fish. It was brine, blood, seawater seeped into the alley over the years.
Reika stepped out gracefully, as if the air were scented with lavender instead of mackerel. "Wait here, Renji."
"—Reika-sama, let him come with us."
"…Hmm?" Reika turned, her glance sharp and expectant.
"It'll be a good experience for him."
Reika studied Shira, then Renji for a heartbeat, then gave a small, noncommittal nod.
"Well… I don't see why not. Follow us, Renji."
She walked ahead without waiting.
"… Okie dokie…" Renji sighed, locked the car, then followed after the ladies.
They moved through the front row of stalls. The stench intensified with every step. Renji's face twisted more and more. Shira leaned closer to him, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper.
"Hmm. Still can't handle the fish?"
"Damn right… That was an unforgettable night for me, Shira-san…"
A soft huff of amusement escaped her. "Move on will you…"
"…Don't tell me we're having breakfast here too?"
"Breakfast?" she echoed while glancing at him.
"Hmm?"
"…You didn't eat the breakfast Aya-san prepared for you?"
"What, wait, she did?"
"…Yes, she should have delivered it to your room this morning."
Renji paused mid-step.
Crap… is it when I went down to the garden…?
"Just my luck… must've missed it…"
"Well, you'll be looking forward to dinner, then."
"Are you serious…?"
"…You'll have bit of free time later, go get yourself some food." She smiled, neatly closing the subject.
Soon, they stopped in front of an older row of stalls set slightly apart from the rest. Its wooden frame was discolored with age, it felt less like a shop and more like something abandoned by time.
From where they stood close, they could hear muffled commotion.
"—You'd better—"
"—Please! Please—just—time—"
Reika frowned. Without knocking, she slid the door open.
The sound inside died instantly.
Four heads turned to her direction.
A trembling middle-aged man groveled into the floorboards, not only bowing in apology, but kneeling in surrender.
His wife sat rigid on a chair near the wall, both hands wrapped around her phone, lips quivering under her cold sweat and dried tears.
Standing over them were two broad-shouldered men in sharp suits that did nothing to hide the street identity in their posture.
One of them blinked in surprise. "H-Hiraga-sama! Kurosawa-sama…!?"
The other swallowed. "Why are you guys here…?"
"Right back at you," Reika replied evenly. "What are you two doing here?"
"W-we're just doing our job."
Shira's tired gaze looked at them as they looked back to her for direction, for rescue. But she just shakes her head to the side subtly.
"You're here for the loan, hmm?" Reika asked with sarcastic tone.
"T-these punks are already three months late!" one snapped, grinding the sole of his shoe against the husband's head for emphasis.
"—Take your foot off him." Reika's cold glare was quiet but absolute.
The man hesitated, then clicked his tongue and stepped back.
Shira placed a hand on Reika's shoulder before her tone could rise further. Reika took one breath, steadying herself. But one of the debt collectors added with mocking tone.
"Hiraga-sama, we've been nice to this garbage. Fifty-million-yen principal, excluding accumulated interest."
The old fishmonger's voice trembled. "I will pay! Please, just another week. My freezer broke and the tuna shipment was delayed—"
"You said that last week you damn geezer!" the collector interrupted.
Reika didn't look at the collector. She looked at the wife.
"You… do you have the contract with you?"
The wife didn't answer as she's overwhelmed by fear, can only nods slowly.
"Bring it to me." Reika said softly.
The wife jolted as if waking from a trance. She scrambled to a drawer, hands shaking so badly the papers slipped once before she managed to pull them free. She held them out to her with both hands, bowing her head as if offering her life.
"…50 million yen, 11% interest per month…" Reika recites the number inside the paper, after reading all of it, she now turns her eyes to the collectors in suit. "Who authorized this?"
The men faltered. "W-Well… our boss—"
Then his friend snapped defensively. "Boss said we're raising it to fifteen! Risk compensation."
"I asked who authorized it."
Silence.
And Reika said the answer herself.
"…Boardman Murakami, wasn't it?"
Thus, the silence again as their confirmation, she let out a sigh, then look at the husband.
"How long have you been here?"
"T-t-thirty-two years, m-my father started this shop."
Reika turned her eyes toward her own men again.
"Did you evaluate his repayment capacity before issuing fifty million?"
The collector's jaw tightened. "…He has property."
She looked up at the faded wooden sign of the stall. The kanji was chipped badly but polished from decades of cleaning.
"I have no doubt that this stall doesn't even make fifty million in a year," she said with calm calculation. "Even with perfect seasons…"
"Ghh…" One of the debt collectors clenched his fist, as if trying to suppress something.
"At this rate, repayment is mathematically impossible. Even if his revenue increases twenty percent."
The collector's expression hardened slightly. "That's why the collateral compensates for that!"
"This property doesn't even touch thirty million, no matter how you want to twist it, this is just a bad investment." She paused, then walk closer to the men, she said in a low voice "Unless… instead of investment, you're looking for strangulation, that is…"
"B-but! These guys! they have to give back our money!"
"—Cancel the accumulated interest."
The collector blinked. "Hiraga-sama?"
"Reset the loan to original principal. No compound interest. Fixed installments over 10 years."
"H-Hiraga-sama??"
Ignoring the two, Reika turned to the husband and wife with wry smile, "And for you, within those 10 years, you'll be exclusively buying your raw frozen seafoods from KHX channel, no outside contracts. No independent negotiation."
When Reika finish saying her piece, the light returned to the husband and wife's eyes.
"—But unlike your neighbor, I'll have to make you buy from us slightly above the reduced rate, consider that your interest." She closes with a smile.
The old man nodded rapidly. "Yes! Yes, of course!!"
"Hiraga-sama—" one protested. "—If we walk back now, the others—!"
"—Will learn, that we do not make stupid investment."
The two-debt collector strained with frustration, "But!!"
"From now, you'll report every loan you collected to me and Shira, if there nothing else to say, you may take your leave."
Finally, both men bowed stiffly.
"…Understood."
The word tasted bitter in the air.
They turned, walking past Reika, Shira, then Renji with darkened eyes, sliding the door open harder than necessary. The wood rattled in its frame before the alley noise swallowed them.
The moment the door shut, the wife's rigid posture collapsed entirely. She sagged forward, sobs spilling out of her without restraint.
"Ojō-sama!! Thank you!!"
The husband dropped to his knees beside her, tears streaming down his face as he bowed again and again until his forehead touched the floor.
"Thank you! thank you— we thought we were finished!!"
Reika stood there for a moment, looking almost uncomfortable under the weight of their gratitude.
"It's fine, just… focus on your managing your business from now on… and… be careful before asking any loans in the future…"
They bowed again and again, even after they stepped back outside to the alley.
Three of them walked in silence until they reached the main row of the market.
Only then did Shira speak.
"Reika-sama… you know what you're doing, right?"
"Of course I do."
"I understand your reasoning. But… we're not a charity."
"If it bothers you that much, I'll leave it to you to talk to those 'debt collectors'."
Her steps didn't falter. The conversation, to her, was over.
"…As you wish." Shira frowned, falling half a step behind.
…Hmm… is this one of her 'omoiyari'…?
Renji recalled something that Reika said to him. And just now, see it in person how she lives by her words.
…What does she gain from this though…?
Still walking side by side, the tension lingered thick, behind them, Shira watched Reika's back in strained silence.
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