June 28th, 6:45 AM.
In an ordinary apartment in Nerima Ward, Maeda's alarm clock rang for the second time.
He reached out for the bedside table, groped around for a long time without touching it, and only managed to hit the alarm switch after rolling his body a bit.
After turning it off, he lingered under the blanket for another two minutes, until the sound of his wife calling him to eat came from the kitchen.
"If you do not get up soon, you are going to miss the train."
Maeda crawled out from under the blanket, yawned, and dragged his slippers into the small dining room.
The television was already on.
His wife was putting a fried egg onto a plate, holding the remote control in her other hand to flip through channels.
As soon as Maeda sat down and before he even picked up his chopsticks, he suddenly heard a hurried news alert sound from the television.
The screen on NHK cut to the studio.
The anchor's expression was much more solemn than usual.
"...Reminding viewers once again, regarding the major shooting and bombing incident that occurred near Shinjuku Ward in Tokyo around 9 PM last night, it has been confirmed so far that military-grade automatic weapons and explosive devices were used."
"According to reports, the target of the attack is suspected to be Saionji Satsuki, the only direct heir of the Saionji Group..."
Maeda's hand holding the chopsticks stopped.
"...Dense gunfire had continuously emanated from the scene, and police are currently still confirming the exact number of people involved in the attack. The Metropolitan Police Department has implemented a large-scale blockade of the incident area."
"Regarding casualties, the authorities have not yet released complete data. Some witnesses stated that helicopters had directly entered the blocked area to carry out rescue operations..."
The screen cut to nighttime aerial footage. In the distance, several cars lay crookedly across the road, with obvious explosion traces on the charred road surface.
The red and blue police lights illuminated the entire neighborhood flickeringly, and the set-up cordon nearly enclosed two blocks.
His wife had already put down the remote control.
"This was last night?"
"Yeah..." Maeda stared at the screen.
A line of text appeared in the upper right corner of the screen—
"Automatic Rifles, Explosives—Major Armed Attack Occurs in Central Tokyo"
The line below:
"Target of the Attack: Saionji Satsuki (18 Years Old) of the Saionji Group"
Eighteen years old.
Maeda stared at that number, dazed for several seconds.
No one working in a bank has not heard the name Saionji.
The Saionji Group's presence in the financial circle has grown stronger and stronger over the past two years, and that Eldest Miss, who is said to be only eighteen years old, has recently been appearing in economic news from time to time.
But placing "eighteen years old" and "automatic rifles" and "explosives" in the same picture created a sense of incongruity that people could not react to all at once.
"She is only eighteen..." His wife also saw that line of text.
NHK's footage cut to another segment.
That was a video taken by a nearby resident with a home video camera.
The filming location was very far away, and the picture shook slightly due to continuous zooming, making it only barely possible to see a helicopter hovering above the street.
The airflow whipped up by the rotor blades blew debris on the ground flying everywhere, and several people wearing black gear could be vaguely seen surrounding a severely deformed car.
"...According to descriptions from multiple on-site witnesses, a helicopter bearing the Saionji medical logo carried out emergency rescue in the attacked area. Currently, the injury status of Saionji Satsuki herself cannot be confirmed..."
A few gunshots suddenly rang out in the video. The cameraman shook his hand in fright, and the screen shook a few times before going black.
Maeda swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
The fried egg had already gotten cold, and he had not touched a single bite.
His wife switched the channel to Fuji TV.
Over there, a special morning report was being broadcast, with three commentators sitting in the studio and newspapers spread all over the table.
"...The most worrying point of the incident is that the weapons and equipment appearing at the scene have far exceeded the scope of ordinary yakuza conflicts."
"Automatic rifles, grenades, and even allegedly professionally trained foreign armed personnel participated in the attack. This is almost unheard of in postwar Japanese security history..."
One of the older commentators pushed up his glasses.
"Frankly speaking, if all this information is true, we should no longer define this incident as a 'yakuza conflict'. It is closer to an organized targeted assassination, and can even be said to carry the nature of terrorism."
The female anchor beside him asked a follow-up question.
"Do you mean that this has already transcended the scope of yakuza issues?"
"When automatic weapons appear on the streets of Tokyo, it has already transcended it."
The discussion on television continued.
Maeda finally started eating breakfast, but after picking up two bites of rice with his chopsticks, he stopped again to look at the screen.
After going out, he waited for the train at the train station, and what he was thinking about was still the news.
The people on the platform were quieter than usual.
Quite a few office workers in suits were holding newspapers, and the front pages were almost uniformly the same piece of news.
"Tokyo Shinjuku Shooting and Bombing Incident—Target of Attack Confirmed as 18-Year-Old Heir of the Saionji Group"
"Automatic Weapons Appear in the Capital—Postwar's Most Severe Armed Attack Incident"
"Yakuza-Associated Organizations Suspected of Involvement—Three Major Boryokudan Face Comprehensive Accountability"
Maeda glanced at the paragraph below from the newspaper of the person next to him.
"...Saionji Satsuki is only eighteen years old this year, and is the only direct heir of the Saionji Family."
"Since 1985, she began to gradually participate in family affairs and has represented the Saionji Family at public events multiple times. According to sources close to the talks, before being attacked last night, she had just completed a negotiation regarding the economic transformation of the yakuza with the leaders of the three major yakuza organizations..."
A middle-aged man in a gray suit next to him folded up his newspaper and complained to a colleague.
"What the hell, an eighteen-year-old girl dared to sit down with that bunch of people to talk about stopping, and after coming out, she ended up being chased and shot at with guns instead."
His colleague shook his head.
"NHK says there were also foreigners involved. Foreigners running to Japan to hit our own people? What are the Metropolitan Police Department eating?"
"The key is that her own bodyguards arrived even earlier than the police..."
The train arrived. Maeda was pushed by the tide of people to squeeze on.
Beside the strap ads in the carriage, someone holding a newspaper revealed a photo.
The photo was a distant view of the blocked street. At the edge of the picture, a completely unrecognizable black sedan could be seen, and the caption below read "The Wrecked Main Car of Saionji."
Standing next to him were two young men looking like college students, who started whispering as soon as they got on the train.
"Last night the TV was broadcasting this all the time, and NHK even inserted news several times later."
"I saw it too. Someone filmed the helicopter landing from a nearby building, and there seemed to be gunshots below at that time, it was too terrifying..."
"Do you guys think she really is only eighteen years old?"
"Did not the newspaper write it? Born in 1973, she just entered Gakushuin University this year."
"Only eighteen..."
One of the young men lowered his head again to look at the newspaper in his hand.
"I used to think she was at least in her twenties. It seems she has been able to show up for matters of the Saionji Family recently, right? Following right beside her father, she was quite cute."
Another voice lowered a bit.
"As a result, yesterday she was cornered and beaten on the street just like that, how pitiful—"
After pausing for a moment, he said again:
"The yakuza are way too scary."
"They dare to do such a thing, why has not the government rounded them all up?"
Maeda held onto the strap, listening to the fragmented discussions around him.
After the train reached the station, he came out of the ticket barrier and passed the station's newsstand.
The owner was placing the newly arrived sports newspaper special edition onto the rack, and almost the entire front page was occupied by a blurry nighttime photo—the silhouette of a helicopter in the night sky, and below it, chaotic streets illuminated by red and blue police lights.
The title used the largest font size.
"Assassination Attempt on Saionji Satsuki"
Closely followed by a striking subtitle below.
"Tokyo Gunfight Night of the Eighteen-Year-Old Heir"
The owner piled up newspapers nearby and waved at him.
"Would the gentleman like a copy? Today's issue is selling very fast."
Maeda took out his money.
After getting it in hand, he opened to the first page, walked two steps, and stopped again.
Printed on it was an old photo that was fished out from somewhere unknown.
The girl in the photo was wearing a kimono of the Saionji Family, standing on the veranda of some Japanese-style courtyard with a smile on her face.
There was only a line of annotation below—
"Saionji Satsuki, photographed in 1988."
Maeda looked at that smiling face, and then remembered the car smashed into scrap metal on the TV just now.
He put the magazine into his briefcase and walked quickly toward the company building.
Someone in the elevator was making a phone call.
"...Right right right, you saw it right? Automatic rifles! Tokyo! It is already the nineties, the capital of Japan, and someone is using military weapons to beat people on the road... It is not gang turf wars, it is aimed at an eighteen-year-old girl..."
"Just how much longer are the yakuza going to plague us? Why keep such an organization around?"
The elevator door opened, and Maeda walked out.
In the office, colleagues had already gathered in twos and threes, with several different newspapers placed on the table. Without suspense, there was only one topic.
Some speculated who was behind the scenes, some discussed why the Metropolitan Police Department reacted so slowly, and some were talking about the footage of the helicopter landing.
Maeda walked to his workstation and sat down, turning on the radio on his desk.
NHK's broadcast was still rolling out reports.
"...The Prime Minister's Official Residence issued a statement this morning, expressing grave concern over the armed attack incident that occurred in Tokyo last night. The National Public Safety Commission will hold an emergency meeting this morning to discuss incident investigation and follow-up disposal issues..."
"...The secretary-general of the Japan Socialist Party stated in an interview—'On the land of postwar Japan, the occurrence of assassinations using explosives and automatic weapons has shaken the citizens' most basic trust in the security system.'"
"...Some lawmakers within the Liberal Democratic Party have begun calling for stricter suppression measures against all boryokudan, and some even proposed that the framework of the current anti-boryokudan act should be re-examined..."
Maeda lowered the volume a bit.
The female colleague next door poked her head over.
"Maeda-san, have you read today's Asahi?"
"Not yet."
She handed over the newspaper and pointed to an editorial headline on the third page.
"Just How Long Must We Tolerate the Yakuza?"
Maeda glanced at the beginning.
"...The incident that occurred last night has made this issue unavoidable. For a long time, Japanese society has maintained a peculiar tacit understanding of 'coexistence' with boryokudan, but when military-grade weapons are brought onto the streets of Tokyo, when an eighteen-year-old chaebol heir is armed after negotiating with boryokudan leaders, can this tacit understanding still be maintained..."
Maeda put down the newspaper.
Outside the window, Tokyo had just completely brightened.
The street downstairs looked no different from usual.
Traffic flow, pedestrians, traffic lights, everything operated as usual.
But everyone already knew.
Last night, right in this city, someone brought automatic rifles and grenades to kill an eighteen-year-old girl.
And the people responsible for creating the chaos were the yakuza.
Maeda suddenly remembered the sentence he heard on the train.
"The yakuza are too scary, they should all be arrested."
He turned down the radio volume a bit more.
NHK's voice was still continuing.
"...The Saionji Group has not yet publicly responded to this incident. According to relevant sources, Saionji Satsuki was rushed to the hospital last night, and her current injuries and condition are unknown. Our station will continue to follow up—"
"Wait a minute." The anchor beside interrupted. "The editor-in-chief's office just sent the latest news."
"The Public Security Department of the Metropolitan Police Department is currently investigating the identities of several suspected foreign individuals involved in the case. Police stated that some documents and other clues found at the scene show that foreign personnel may have been involved in last night's attack, but the true identities, entry records, and affiliations of the relevant personnel are still under verification."
"The Public Security Department also stated that, given the seriousness and complexity of the incident, it cannot be ruled out that it will be characterized as—"
The anchor paused for a moment.
"—An organized terrorist attack activity targeting important figures within Japan."
The office suddenly became quiet.
Maeda looked at the radio, his teacup halfway up and forgotten to be put down.
Terrorist attack.
Someone had already said this last night, and some people had used similar phrasing on newspaper extras.
But how ordinary citizens guessed was one thing.
When these four words were clearly spoken out from NHK's broadcast, things were already completely different.
He put down the teacup, picked up the phone, and dialed his wife's number.
It answered after ringing twice.
"Hello?"
"Nothing much." Maeda leaned back in his chair. "It is just... do not go out too late today."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
"Okay."
He hung up the phone and glanced out the window again.
June's sunlight was already very hot.
But he always felt that today's Tokyo was no longer the same as yesterday.