February 5, 1991, Saionji Residence.
Breakfast was set in the small dining room.
Lightly toasted bread with fried eggs and bacon, a small bowl of hot soup, and a small plate of sliced fruit.
Outside the window, the courtyard was covered in a thin layer of snow.
When the sunlight broke through the clouds and shone on the branches, they glistened as if sprinkled with fine salt.
The television was placed on one side of the dining room, the volume low enough to clearly hear the news anchor.
"The Saionji Group and the Seibu Group issued a joint announcement yesterday, stating that both parties have reached a basic cooperation agreement in areas such as commercial development along railway lines, procurement of ingredients for the Prince Hotel, services surrounding stadiums, and tourism logistics in Hokkaido."
The screen cut to the scene of the press conference.
Shuichi sat on the stage with a calm expression, flanked by several representatives sent by Seibu.
Endo stood to one side, reading the announcement from a document.
The news anchor continued: "Both parties stated that this cooperation aims to respond to changes in the consumption and asset environment during the adjustment period of the bubble economy. By collaborating in fields such as railways, hotels, sports entertainment, and food logistics, they intend to improve group management efficiency and promote the integration of urban consumption and regional tourism resources."
Every word on the television was prudent.
The report used nothing but impeccable words like "collaboration," "cooperation," "joint promotion," and "management efficiency," as if this were just a perfectly normal group partnership.
But the Tokyo financial world would not really think so.
Commercial development along railways, ingredient procurement for the Prince Hotel, services surrounding the Seibu Lions stadium, tourism logistics in Hokkaido.
Putting these words together, anyone in the know could see at a glance that Seibu had handed over some of its most stable cash flow gateways to Saionji.
Satsuki sat at the dining table, holding a silver fork, slowly poking at the fried egg on her plate.
She watched the television for a while, then suddenly pointed at the screen.
"Father, does not Endo look a bit unwell?"
Shuichi looked up.
On the television, Endo had just turned a page of the document.
His movements were still very steady, but his complexion was indeed not as rosy as before.
Standing under the lights, that exhaustion was even more obvious.
"Indeed."
Shuichi nodded, a hint of a smile in his tone.
"Ever since you took over the family business, his complexion has been getting worse and worse."
"Do you remember how good he looked when he was working for me before?"
Satsuki blinked.
"The capable do more work, after all."
"Say that to Endo's face next time."
"No, he will cry."
Shuichi could not help but laugh and chide her.
The news on TV had already switched to a financial commentator.
The person was earnestly analyzing how the cooperation between Saionji and Seibu would affect the landscape of Japan's service industry.
On the table was a complex diagram connecting railways, hotels, farms, logistics, and stadiums.
Satsuki only took one look before losing interest.
She put down her cutlery and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"I am full."
After saying that, she stood up from her chair.
"Then I am off to school, Father."
Shuichi's hand, holding his coffee cup, paused.
This word was already a bit unfamiliar to him.
Going to school.
Was his daughter actually still going to school?
He looked at his younger daughter, who had just brokered the Seibu cooperation, and looked at the Seika Academy uniform she had already changed into, suddenly feeling the scene was absurd.
"That is right."
Shuichi set down his coffee cup and said, suppressing a laugh, "I almost forgot you were still a student."
Satsuki nodded very seriously.
"I only remembered when I saw the uniform this morning, too."
Seeing her righteous expression, Shuichi did not know what to say.
He paused for a moment, his tone softening a little.
"However, you do not actually have to go. Those courses in high school have nothing left to teach you."
"But did not Principal Kugo call Father just a few days ago and talk for a full half hour?"
Satsuki tilted her head and said with a smile.
"It seems my attendance days for these three years do not even add up to a month, right? It is really difficult for Principal Kugo. I could tell from his tone, he was almost crying. Poor him."
Thinking back to that phone call, Shuichi was silent for a few seconds.
Although there was not the "almost crying" tone Satsuki described, Principal Kugo Munehisa was indeed at his wit's end when he came to him.
His phrasing had been clearly deliberated over and over.
Things like "The academy fully understands the special circumstances of Saionji-san handling family affairs," "The third year of the high school division is about to enter the final confirmation stage before graduation," and "If the student continues to be absent for a long time, there will be formal difficulties with attendance records, comprehensive evaluations, graduation certification, and alumni association registration."
Translated, it was just one sentence.
"Please, I beg you, let Saionji-san come back to class for a few days."
If she did not come back, the academy really did not know how to let her graduate.
"That is true."
Shuichi sighed, feeling somewhat amused.
"Just go to school normally for this last month. It just so happens you have barely had any campus life these past few years."
"Yes."
Satsuki picked up her school bag and waved at him gently.
"Then I am off, Father."
"Yes, take care."
Shuichi watched her walk out of the dining room.
The financial commentator on the TV was still saying that the cooperation between Saionji and Seibu might signify a new round of restructuring in the financial world.
The subtitles at the bottom of the screen scrolled continuously, with words like securities, railways, hotels, food, and logistics appearing repeatedly.
And the person who actually made this restructuring happen had just gone to school with a Seika Academy bag on her back.
Shuichi suddenly felt that if he told Tsutsumi Yoshiaki about this, the other party would probably get a stomachache again.
Seika Academy High School Division, Year 3 Class A office.
Sugiura Sawako had already flipped through the same student file for the third time.
The file folder was thick, with a neat label on the cover.
High School Division, Year 3 Class A.
Saionji Satsuki.
Judging by the name alone, this should be Seika Academy's proudest student.
Of old Kazoku descent, beautiful academic records, impeccable etiquette, and her family occupied a very prominent position on the academy's donation list every year.
Just looking at the paper, such a student should be placed on the first few pages of the graduation yearbook, accompanied by a gentle and decent comment, becoming the most suitable example for the academy to showcase its educational achievements externally.
But every time Sugiura Sawako saw the attendance record, she felt her temples throbbing.
Forty-two days.
In three full years, the total high school attendance was forty-two days.
She had taught at Seika Academy for twelve years and had seen many special students.
Some were on long-term leave due to poor health, some went abroad early due to family arrangements, some were forced to miss classes frequently due to engagement issues, and some were simply too lazy to come to school.
Seika Academy was not an ordinary school to begin with; the students who could sit here all had some troubles behind them that teachers needed to pretend not to see.
So, it was normal for students here to miss a few dozen days of class, or even several months.
But the number "forty-two days" was still too outrageous.
It was so outrageous that when Sugiura Sawako first saw the statistics, she thought the administrative office had accidentally written "three years" instead of "one semester."
Later, she confirmed it three times.
That was right, it was indeed three years.
Saionji Satsuki-san, with a very steady, very elegant, and very polite demeanor, set the record for the lowest attendance in Seika Academy since its founding—a record she achieved with an absolute advantage.
What was even more headache-inducing was that this "lowest attendance" could not simply be handled as the lowest.
Because her surname was Saionji.
Because the principal personally stepped in.
Because the board of directors could not possibly say, "We will not let her graduate."
If they really did not let this Eldest Miss graduate, she had every reason to believe that Seika Academy would be razed to the ground the next day.
Sugiura Sawako closed the file, picked up the black tea on the table, and took a sip, trying to clear her head.
Today was the day that "grand dame" was returning to school to attend class.
Thinking of this, she could not help but glance at the file folder again.
Of course, the term "grand dame" could not be spoken aloud.
At faculty meetings, everyone uniformly referred to her as "Saionji-san."
The principal would even deliberately slow down his speech when referring to her, as if saying the name too quickly would seem insufficiently cautious.
But in the entire High School Division office, who did not know how difficult this Saionji-san was to handle?
Yesterday evening, Principal Kugo specifically called her to the principal's office and talked for a whole afternoon.
The principal's meaning could be summarized very simply.
Do not ever provoke that living Buddha.
Ensure she finishes this month's courses.
Do not ever make her feel that Seika Academy is making her uncomfortable.
Of course, Principal Kugo himself did not put it so directly.
He still used that consistently calm tone, emphasizing that the academy should respect the student's special circumstances and should help the student complete the final campus life of high school smoothly.
Sugiura Sawako listened for ten minutes before finally unable to help but ask one question.
"Principal, are you worried that Saionji-san will go back and complain to her family?"
Kugo Munehisa's expression when he looked at her at that moment was very complex.
It was a look mixed with surprise, helplessness, and a little pity.
"Complain?"
The principal acted as if he had heard a word that was very difficult to understand.
"Sugiura-sensei, her whole family listens to her now. Who would she complain to?"
Sugiura Sawako was stunned right then and there.
She knew the Saionji family was powerful, and she knew Satsuki had a special status.
But the sentence "her whole family listens to her" still exceeded a teacher's normal range of understanding regarding a student.
Kugo Munehisa probably realized he had spoken too bluntly, paused for a moment, and waved his hand.
"You are not a person from that circle, so it is normal that you do not know."
"In any case, Saionji-san is not the kind of child who would make unreasonable demands on teachers. She is very well-bred and knows how to keep within bounds."
"You just need to remember to try your best to go along with her in everything and let her finish this month steadily."
Sugiura Sawako nodded, half-understanding.
When she left the principal's office yesterday, she still felt that Principal Kugo's remark was somewhat exaggerated.
Her whole family listens to her.
Such words were naturally absurd in an ordinary family.
But in the families of the old Kazoku and the zaibatsu, it did not seem completely incomprehensible.
Sugiura Sawako had seen spoiled children from prestigious families before.
Some students had the final say at home and treated teachers like servants when they arrived at school; some students had terrible grades, yet their families could arrange make-up exams perfectly; and some students just frowned slightly, and the principal's office would receive a very polite phone call the next day.
So, she took it for granted that Saionji Satsuki was probably just the most exaggerated of them all.
Family status too high, father too doting, school too afraid to offend.
Apart from that, what else could it be?
Until this morning, when she saw the newspaper in the teachers' office.
"Saionji Group and Seibu Group Reach Business Partnership."
"Cooperation Expanded in Railway, Hotel, and Stadium Peripheral Businesses."
"Financial World Pays Attention to New Type of Cooperation Between Large Groups."
In the photo in the newspaper, Saionji Shuichi sat on the stage of the press conference, and Endo stood to one side reading the announcement.
The report wrote about this matter in a very high-sounding way, but the faces of several teachers in the office who had some connections to the financial world clearly changed.
Some whispered that Seibu probably conceded a lot this time.
Others said that putting words like railway, hotel, and stadium together meant it was no longer a normal cooperation.
Sugiura Sawako stood on the side, not quite understanding.
She knew Seibu was huge, and she knew the Saionji family was very powerful.
But who conceded to whom between these large groups, and who got what, she really had no way to judge immediately like those teachers from financial backgrounds.
There was only one thing she could understand.
The name Saionji appeared in the national newspapers again this morning.
And the student corresponding to this name was going to sit in the classroom of Year 3 Class A in a while, listen to her lecture, and also finish filling out that long-overdue graduation paperwork.
Sugiura Sawako looked down at the attendance book in her hand.
In the newspaper, it was the Saionji Group and the Seibu Group.
In the attendance book, it was Year 3 Class A student Saionji Satsuki, absent.
She suddenly became even more firm in her judgment from yesterday.
This was probably truly a child who was spoiled to the point of no return by her family.
It was just that her "no return" was much further than that of ordinary prestigious students.
Far enough that the principal had to personally call Mr. Shuichi, and far enough that the entire High School Division had to accompany her to make up for the last month of campus life.
Sugiura Sawako put the file back on the table and took a deep breath.
The goal she set for herself today was very simple.
First, do not say the wrong thing.
Second, do not ask unnecessary questions.
Third, let Saionji Satsuki-san sit in the classroom safely, finish the class safely, and leave school safely.
As long as these three things were done, she would have completed the most important mission in her career as the homeroom teacher of Year 3 Class A at Seika Academy.
She picked up the lesson plan and checked the documents inside again.
Pre-graduation attendance confirmation.
Supplementary explanation for comprehensive evaluation.
Career registration form.
Graduation yearbook materials.
And several research reports that needed to be confirmed by the student herself.
These things had to be handed to Satsuki herself.
Sugiura Sawako knew very well that many forms could be handled by the Saionji family's clerks, and they might even be handled ten times better than ordinary students.
But the school at least needed to see the person sitting in the classroom, receiving the documents, and writing down her name.
She organized the documents and walked out of the teachers' office.
The hallway was a bit quieter than usual.
The third-year students no longer had the morning energy of the lower grades.
The February air carried a scent of things coming to an end.
Those preparing for entrance exams held reference books, those who had received recommendations began to discuss arrangements after graduation, and those whose families had already decided their paths appeared much more relaxed.
But today's quietness clearly had other reasons.
Just as Sugiura Sawako reached the top of the stairs, she saw many students gathered at the end of the hallway in the distance.
It was not the kind of messy onlookers.
Even if Seika Academy students were curious, they would maintain basic etiquette.
They just slowed their pace, pretending to organize their school bags, pretending to talk to their companions, and pretending that they were not constantly looking in the same direction.
But everyone's gaze was there.
Sugiura Sawako looked in the direction of their gaze.
Satsuki was walking from the other end of the hallway.
She was wearing the Seika Academy High School uniform—a dark jacket, a white shirt, a bowtie tied properly—and was carrying a school bag.
There were no bodyguards or secretaries by her side, only a female student from Seika Academy following her.
But when she walked over, the surrounding students naturally cleared a path for her.
The scene was very strange.
If one only looked at the clothes, she was indeed a student here.
But the atmosphere around her made it very difficult for Sugiura Sawako to treat her as an ordinary student.
A few students greeted her in low voices.
"Saionji-san, good morning."
Satsuki also smiled and responded.
"Good morning."
Her tone was gentle, her etiquette was impeccable, and she lived up to the identity of a well-educated Eldest Miss from a prestigious family.
Sugiura Sawako subconsciously gripped the lesson plan in her hand.
She silently cheered herself on in her heart.
Calm down, Sugiura Sawako.
She is just your student.
Although this student only came for forty-two days in three years.
Although this student might have caused the principal not to sleep well last night.
Although this student's family just jointly issued an announcement with the Seibu Group, making the entire financial world re-evaluate the wind direction in Tokyo.
But today, when she returned to Seika Academy, she was the student of Year 3 Class A.
Sugiura Sawako took a deep breath, a gentle smile that a homeroom teacher should have appearing on her face.
Betting on her own career.
This month, she had to give it her all.