PDLP Chapter 334 A Quiet Morning
Chapter 334 A Quiet Morning
(Thanks to "Night Owl Doesn't Speak (ಡωಡ)" for the author certification! Thank you to "I'm Mrs. Yorktown's Dog" for the author certification! Thank you to "Sardini" for the author certification! Two chapters today~ Happy Children's Day everyone~)
October 14, 1990. Sunday.
When Satsuki woke up, the digital clock by her bed showed 7:42. It was almost an hour later than usual.
The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a thin ray of light leaked in through the gap, slanting across the edge of the tatami mat and landing on the cover of the "Economics White Book" she had placed beside her pillow.
A note handwritten by Endo was also tucked into the spine of the book.
She lay in bed for another thirty seconds.
Thirty seconds later she sat up and put her bare feet on the floor.
The wooden floor was already cool in mid-October; the skin contracted slightly the moment the soles of my feet touched it.
She reflexively went through today's schedule in her mind.
It was empty.
rare.
……
Inside the restaurant, Shuichi was already seated at the table.
A copy of the Nikkei Asian Review is laid out in front of him, and a half-cooked cup of sencha is placed to his left.
I turned to page three of the newspaper in my hand; the entire page was filled with gray headlines.
He looked up when Satsuki came in.
Good morning, Satsuki.
Good morning, Father.
Satsuki sat down in her seat.
Fujita had already prepared her black tea—today's tea leaves were from Ceylon Uva, the water temperature was 85 degrees Celsius, and the steeping time was three and a half minutes.
The teacup was the Wedgwood with its white base and blue stripes, and a thin layer of steam condensed on its surface.
She picked it up and took a sip; the temperature was just right.
Shuichi folded the newspaper and placed it on the corner of the table.
"Three more companies were featured in today's newspaper."
"Um?"
"Bankruptcy. Two were construction companies, one was a printing company." His tone was flat, as if he were already used to it. "The printing company was in Nerima, with more than sixty people."
"Mmm."
Satsuki sipped her tea, responding casually.
Her gaze fell on the dark brown folder on the side of the dining table.
That was the morning briefing that Endo sent every morning before six o'clock. It was a few thin pages, A4 size, clipped together with a paperclip.
She reached out and turned to the first page.
Pudong B-07: Geological exploration has completed all borehole sampling, and the stratigraphic data has been sent back to the Yokohama Port Authority for confirmation. The pile foundation construction plan is pending approval.
Jena office: Gruber has signed an employment contract, and Lange is expected to start work next week. Hoffman's visa application is in transit.
Domestic bankruptcy filings: 21 new bankruptcy filings this week (14 in Kanto and 7 in Kansai). After initial screening by Endo, 3 companies were marked as follow-up cases, with summaries attached.
Crude oil OTC options positions: unchanged.
From the Middle East: No new signals.
Satsuki closed the folder.
Everything is progressing steadily... there's not much to do.
Shuichi was looking at her from the opposite side.
"How have you been sleeping lately?"
"It's alright."
Your dark circles are darker than last week.
"No dark circles under the eyes."
"have."
Shuichi's chopsticks paused briefly in the miso soup bowl.
He glanced at the cup of black tea beside Satsuki.
"Fujita said you didn't turn off the light in your study until 2 a.m. last night."
Satsuki put down her teacup and pretended to be angry.
"Hmph, Fujita talks too much."
Xiu smiled and didn't ask any further questions.
"Just be mindful of the limits, and don't push yourself too hard..."
"If there's anything you need from me, just say so."
He picked up his chopsticks again and took a piece of tamagoyaki.
"...Okay, I understand."
In the courtyard outside the window, the leaves of the maple tree have already begun to change color.
The top few leaves are tinged with a light vermilion from the tips inwards, as if they were dyed with very light watercolor from the edges.
The leaves below are still green.
In mid-October, the color change had just begun.
The morning sunlight slanted across the wooden planks on the edge, and tiny dust particles swirled slowly within the light.
"I'm heading out now." Shuichi wiped his mouth and stood up. "I have a meeting this afternoon—the progress in Odaiba needs to be confirmed. Dinner…"
"I'm at home," Satsuki said.
Xiu stood up, took two steps, then stopped and looked back.
Satsuki was stirring the black tea in her cup with a small silver spoon.
Maintain proper posture and keep your back straight.
The morning light shone on her profile from the side, revealing that at seventeen, her features had lost the roundness of a young girl, with sharp and distinct lines on her cheekbones and jawline.
Xiu opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
In the end, he just smiled slightly.
Then he turned around, his footsteps fading into the distance on the wooden floor.
Satsuki sat for another three minutes. Her teacup was empty, and she didn't ask Fujita to continue.
"Fujita."
"Here." The voice came from two meters behind.
"Prepare the study."
"Yes."
……
The curtains in the study were only half-drawn.
Sunlight filtered through the shoji paper, filling the entire study with a uniform, warm white light.
Satsuki sat at the table with three things spread out in front of her: Endo's morning briefing (which she had already read), a fax from the Frankfurt office, and an envelope.
The envelope was beige, with the emblem of the Faculty of Science and Engineering of the University of Tokyo printed in the corner.
It was sent by Amy.
Satsuki is disassembled.
There were two pages inside.
The first page is a semi-formal progress report—the WIDE project team's customized gateway has entered the second round of prototype testing, with throughput increased by 47 percent compared to the first generation, but there are still three known defects in protocol stack compatibility that need to be fixed.
The handwriting was neat, the line spacing was even, and even the beginning of each paragraph was marked with a number.
Then on the second page, the art style suddenly changes.
It's Suzuki Emi's personal handwriting—sloppy, slanted, and some strokes are simply omitted.
"The coffee machine at the PS Lab is finally fixed. Two weeks! Satsuki-chan, do you know how we managed to get through that?"
"The professors survived for fourteen days on vending machines! I think they all looked like bank presidents on the verge of bankruptcy."
"Last week, I rewrote the branching logic of the protocol stack from scratch... (the third time.) The professor even asked me, 'Suzuki, are you sure?' I said yes. His expression was like he'd seen someone tear down a newly built house. But he didn't stop me; he's such a good person."
"PPPS, right—that original English version of the MIPS instruction set manual you told me about, the bookstore says it's out of print. Satsuki-chan, do you have any connections to get it? You must have, right? Please! (Please!)"
"PPPPS When are you coming to the University of Tokyo? The curry rice in the cafeteria is awful, but you can see Tokyo Tower from the library rooftop."
The last line was written at the very bottom of the paper, with the text pressed very small:
"Don't overwork yourself. (Even though you wouldn't listen.)"
Satsuki's lips twitched slightly, but the movement was minimal.
She folded the two pages, put them back in the envelope, and placed them on the corner of the table.
I didn't take out any letter paper to reply.
I'll talk to her in person at the University of Tokyo next time.
After putting the envelope away, Satsuki leaned back slightly, resting her head on the back of her chair and looking up at the ceiling.
The study fell silent, save for the occasional cry of a startled deer from afar.
She relaxed her thoughts, letting them drift away.
Ascending, and ascending again—rising into the sky.
She looked down.
Below is Tokyo in mid-October.
The fabric of this city is undergoing a change that is not easily noticeable to the naked eye.
The neon lights of Ginza are still on, the trams are still running on time, and commuters are still squeezing themselves into the carriages in a flat shape during the morning rush hour.
Everything was running smoothly and normally, looking the same as always.
But in reality, some capillaries are already contracting.
French restaurants in Roppongi are closing their shutters one after another.
The nights in Shinjuku's Kabukicho district are getting shorter, and there are more empty seats than taxis in the taxi standby area.
People's consumption habits are changing rapidly due to the bursting of the bubble, and countless affordable brands are eager to make their mark on this concrete jungle.
The Ministry of Construction's weekly data on completed floor space continues to decline, but because the figures are always two months behind reality, newspapers are still using the term "economic adjustment."
Everything is slowly changing; the hand of time is gently caressing this city.
On this slowly receding mudflat, the Saionji Group's balance sheet is expanding in the opposite direction.
Countless construction projects underway, talents from all walks of life, the production capacity of bankrupt enterprises, and seafood crude oil options...
The pieces on the chessboard are all in their positions, and she doesn't need to move them herself for the time being.
wait.
All she needs to do is wait.
Something is about to happen.
My thoughts slowly sank, and sank further.
It pierced through the clouds, through the rooftops, and returned to Satsuki.
Satsuki slowly opened her eyes, watching the light and shadow slowly move on the shoji paper.
A quiet morning.
It was as quiet as the eye of a storm.