On the second floor, in an elegantly decorated lounge.
The heavy walnut double doors were not fully closed, leaving a gap of a few centimeters. A halo of light poured through the crack, spilling onto the corridor carpet.
Fujita Tsuyoshi stopped two paces from the door. He raised his right hand, pressing his palm inward to signal a halt.
Yamada stood in the shadows of the corridor, holding his breath. His gaze peered through the half-open door and into the room.
In the center of the lounge, a man in a suit who appeared to hold a high position stood before a coffee table.
"Eldest Miss."
The man bowed his head slightly.
"The Security Department caught an unidentified intruder. He's wearing a construction worker's uniform, and his motives for sneaking in are unclear. Should we hand him over to the Metropolitan Police Department, or simply expel him through the back door?"
Outside the door, Yamada swallowed, his fingers instinctively clutching the hem of his clothes.
He stole a glance at Fujita Tsuyoshi. Hadn't he been told he was invited by my lady? It didn't seem that way at all…
Looking over the man's shoulder, Yamada saw a young girl sitting upright on a leather sofa.
The girl held a cup of black tea in her hand. She turned her head slightly, glancing at the night scene outside the window.
"It's still raining outside."
The girl placed the teacup onto the coffee table.
"He might just be a poor soul with nowhere else to go. Bring him in. Let's see if we need to provide him with some hot food and travel expenses."
Yamada's fingers slowly released their grip on his clothes.
When he was discovered, he had already prepared himself to be detained. He hadn't expected this unknown young girl to let him off so easily.
Inside the room, the man in the suit turned toward the door and nodded.
Fujita Tsuyoshi stepped forward and pushed open the ajar wooden door.
"Go in," Fujita Tsuyoshi said, looking at Yamada.
Yamada took stiff steps, treading into the brightly lit room covered in heavy wool carpeting. He awkwardly pulled his legs together, looking at the girl sitting on the sofa.
The girl nodded slightly.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Saionji Satsuki."
She extended her right hand, pointing toward the single-seater sofa opposite her.
"Please forgive any rudeness from my subordinates. Please, have a seat."
She lifted a purple clay teapot from the marble coffee table, poured a cup of steaming clear tea, and pushed it toward the opposite seat.
Yamada sat on the edge of the sofa. The warm air in the room gradually dispelled the chill from his body.
"Sir, the security standards tonight are being executed at the highest level," Satsuki said in a level tone. "Why did you take such a great risk to sneak in?"
Yamada stared at the cup of hot tea before him.
In this warm and non-hostile space, the long-accumulated pressure and exhaustion caused him to lower his guard slightly.
"I am… the former foreman of Matsuura Construction," Yamada's voice was somewhat raspy. "The bank's withdrawal of loans drove President Matsuura to his death. The workers' hard-earned money from the past six months has all been sucked into the court-seized accounts. Everyone can't even afford to eat now."
He looked up at Satsuki.
"We built this building. I sneaked in tonight just because I wanted to see with my own eyes whether the donations from those big shots would actually reach the hands of people like us."
The lounge fell silent.
Satsuki's gaze moved across the coffee table, falling upon Yamada's palms, which were covered in cracks and grime.
"I've seen the bankruptcy liquidation records for Matsuura Construction," Satsuki said, looking at Yamada. "How many workers do you have under you?"
Yamada was stunned for a moment and answered instinctively.
"Two hundred and thirty people. All of them are men I brought out from my hometown."
"The president committed suicide, and the bank froze the accounts. In times like these, workers usually scatter like birds and beasts," Satsuki leaned forward slightly. "When no one can even eat, why are they still willing to follow you?"
Yamada's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.
"They all came to Tokyo to work with their families in tow. Now they can't even scrape together the train fare to return home. Since I brought them out, I have to be responsible for taking them back."
"…Even if I have to go to the back door of food factories every day to pick up expired scraps, I have to keep them alive."
He lowered his head, his hands clutching the rough hem of his clothes tightly.
"Everyone is huddling under the bridge at Ueno Park right now. If I don't bring back good news today, someone will be jumping off the roof of Chiba Bank tomorrow."
Satsuki listened quietly until he finished.
Two hundred and thirty people. Maintaining tight cohesion in the desperate situation of lost wages, with a natural trust in the foreman before her.
She withdrew her gaze and opened a drawer beneath the coffee table.
From it, she took out a 'Special Fund Disbursement Authorization' watermarked with the header of the Saionji Finance Department. She picked up a fountain pen from the table and uncapped it.
The nib moved quickly across the paper, filling in a long string of numbers and a signature. Then, she took a personal seal engraved with her name from the inner side of the drawer and pressed a red mark next to the signature line.
"Matsuura Construction has already been seized by the bank. If you go through the regular bankruptcy liquidation channels, you won't get a single cent."
Satsuki tore off the authorization page and slid it across the table to the center of the coffee table.
"Take this authorization. Go downstairs to the Saionji Finance Department and withdraw the workers' back pay in full directly from the Relief Fund pool."
Yamada's gaze was fixed intently on the slip of paper stamped with red ink.
His breathing stalled for a moment. President Matsuura had begged and pleaded, even losing his life, just to borrow cash from the bank without getting a cent. And now, this huge sum of money—enough to save two hundred and thirty lives—had been authorized so casually in just a few seconds.
A strong sense of absurdity and wild joy washed over his nerves simultaneously. Yamada swallowed dryly. He wiped the cold sweat from his palms onto his dirty overalls, then extended his trembling arms toward the edge of the coffee table.
Just as his fingers were about to touch the edge of the authorization form…
The man in the suit took a large step forward. He reached out his right hand and pressed down on the edge of the authorization form.
"My lady."
The man bowed his head slightly, looking directly into Satsuki's eyes.
"Matsuura Construction has already entered bankruptcy liquidation. If you bypass the court's Bankruptcy Trustee now and distribute a large amount of cash directly to low-level workers, Chiba Bank will apply to the court tomorrow morning to freeze our accounts and file a lawsuit against the group on the grounds of 'transferring bankruptcy assets.'"
The man's fingers tightened slightly.
"Regarding the incident last month where you distributed hot food at Ueno Park, the family elders have already raised formal inquiries. To provoke the bottom line of the Kanto banking industry and the courts for the sake of these few hundred vagrants now will jeopardize your position within the family."
"Please, you must reconsider."
Yamada looked at the man's hand pressing down on the authorization form.
Bankruptcy Trustee. Judicial litigation. Family inquiries.
The legal risks and political costs behind this money were laid out clearly before him.
This was a heavy piece of charity.
Yamada swallowed hard. He moved his gaze away from the paper and looked at Satsuki sitting opposite him.
His lips trembled. His fingers gripped the fabric at his knees, then slowly released. He extended his hands, his fingertips touching the edge of the authorization form with the red seal.
The paper rubbed against the table, making a faint sound.
With extreme difficulty, Yamada pushed the authorization form back half an inch.
"My lady…"
Yamada's voice was so raspy it was almost broken.
"This money… we cannot take it. The bank and the court will ruin you. We will… find another way ourselves."
These words drained all the air from his lungs. Refusing this money was equivalent to cutting off the lifeline for the two hundred and thirty brothers under the bridge.
He said they would find a way, but what way was left now? My lady had already said that they wouldn't get any money through regular channels.
However, for grown men like them to survive at the cost of a young girl's sacrifice? That was also something he could not accept.
Satsuki furrowed her brows.
She raised her right hand and brushed away the man's arm that was pressing on the note.
"Put away your unnecessary pride."
Satsuki's gaze was fixed on Yamada.
"You have two hundred and thirty lives under you. If you walk out of this door empty-handed today, someone will jump off a building tomorrow. What 'other way' do you have?"
She pushed the authorization form completely to Yamada's side.
"The bank's rules only protect capital, but the buildings outside were built by these workers."
"The court can wait, but people with empty stomachs cannot."
Yamada looked at the slip of paper, a dry rasping sound coming from his throat.
He slowly extended both hands, his fingertips touching the authorization form with the red ink. The thin paper trembled slightly in his palms.
Satsuki watched as he took the order.
"This money can solve your immediate hunger. But it cannot solve the next crisis."
Satsuki folded her hands over her knees.
"After settling these back wages, you two hundred and thirty people will still need to continue making a living on Tokyo's construction sites. As long as the overall credit environment is contracting, the bank can at any time drain the capital chain of the next president, sending you right back under the bridge at Ueno Park."
Yamada's fingers holding the authorization froze. He looked up at Satsuki.
"Your original corporate unions couldn't even manage basic wage recovery when the bank withdrew the loans."
Satsuki looked at Yamada.
"Even if everyone takes this money today and gets through this month, as long as you remain within those obsolete systems, you will still be at the mercy of the banks in the future. You must break away from those decadent structures and establish an 'Independent Labor Mutual Aid Association' yourselves."
Yamada's bloodshot eyes widened slightly. He looked up, his gaze moving from the authorization form to Satsuki.
Satsuki leaned forward slightly.
"If you are willing… the Saionji Family…"
She paused for half a second, her gaze locking onto Yamada's eyes.
"No. I am willing to provide you with legal and financial support."
"And then you will be the person in charge, to protect everyone."
A brief silence fell over the lounge.
Only the faint sound of the air conditioning vents echoed in the air.
Yamada sat frozen on the edge of the sofa. The words 'I am willing to provide you with support' echoed repeatedly in his ears.
He looked at the ashen-faced man in the suit standing by the coffee table, then at the calm Satsuki sitting under the bright lights.
The young lady had not only given them life-saving money but was even willing to use her own name to shield these low-level laborers from the liquidation of the banks and the entire bureaucratic system.
His rough fingertips pressed hard against the paper of the order. Yamada felt a weight he had never experienced before.
Protect everyone.
These two words, to a foreman who for the past few days could only scavenge scraps from the back door of a food factory to feed his fellow workers, were as heavy as a thousand tons.
He slowly folded the authorization form with the red seal and solemnly tucked it into the inner pocket of his overalls, close to his chest. He pressed down on the pocket twice with his fingers, making sure the slip of paper was securely against his chest.
Then, Yamada moved his stiff legs and stood up from the sofa.
He did not say a single word of thanks.
He stepped back half a pace, brought his knees together, and knelt straight down onto the heavy wool carpet.
With his hands flat against the floor and his upper body leaning forward, he pressed his forehead heavily into the gap between his hands on the carpet.
In this autumn where the whole world seemed to want them dead, a girl had taken them in.