PDLP Chapter 147 A Solemn Carnival
Chapter 147 A Solemn Carnival
(Thanks to "Yuanbenxi's Liji" for once again being the King of Gifts! Thank you for your support! Also, thank you to "W1lbert" for the God of Literature certification! Thank you to "Anonymous" for the God of Literature certification! Thank you to "Yuyuyu" for the health care! One extra chapter today, and another extra chapter tomorrow.)
January 1989.
The sky over Tokyo had a sickly grayish-white hue.
This was the quietest winter the city had seen in decades. Most of the neon lights on the streets were off, department stores had removed their New Year's decorations, and the usually bustling high-class clubs in Ginza had lowered their shutters. NHK television was broadcasting news about the Emperor's illness around the clock.
The solemn and heavy atmosphere, like a thick layer of volcanic ash, covered the hearts of every Japanese person.
The last seven days of Showa 64.
January 6th, late at night.
Bunkyo District, Saionji Headquarters.
The living room was quite warm, but Shuichi still felt a bit cold. He was wearing a black wool cardigan and kneeling in front of a low table. In his hand, he held a piece of white silk and carefully wiped the family crest brooch.
This is an ornament that is only worn when attending the highest-level funeral.
The television was on, at a very low volume. On the screen, a spokesperson for the Imperial Household Agency, with a grave expression, read out the latest blood pressure and pulse data.
"It's almost over..."
Shuichi stopped what he was doing and looked out at the dark courtyard.
As a former member of the nobility, he had complex feelings for the old man living deep within the Imperial Palace. He was the object of loyalty for his fathers and grandfathers, and also the spiritual pillar of the post-war reconstruction.
"It feels somewhat disrespectful to discuss business at this time."
Shuichi put the brooch back into the velvet box and sighed.
"Keep your respect in your heart, Father."
Satsuki sat on the sofa opposite, a blanket covering her legs, holding a data report that had just been delivered.
SA Entertainment's urgent analysis report on recent KTV room occupancy rates.
"Those who are alive must breathe."
She turned a page of the report, her fingertips tracing the soaring curve.
"The government called for 'self-restraint,' television stations stopped broadcasting entertainment programs, and concerts were canceled. Entertainment activities in Tokyo were forcibly put on hold."
Satsuki raised her head, her eyes appearing remarkably calm in the dim light.
"However, human desires do not disappear just because the Emperor is ill. The more they are suppressed, the more violently they will rebound."
She handed the report to Xiu Yi.
"Over the past week, SA KTV's late-night occupancy rate has increased by 300% compared to the same period last year."
Xiuyi took the report and looked at the astonishing numbers.
"Why? Everyone should be at home praying for blessings..."
"They have nowhere to go."
Satsuki said calmly.
"You can't go to disco to dance, you can't make a lot of noise in izakayas, and if you laugh too loudly in the street, your neighbors will point and whisper about you. This oppressive atmosphere will drive young people crazy."
She pointed to the extinguished neon lights outside the window.
"When people can't laugh out loud outside, they need to scream inside a box."
"Our well-insulated shipping containers are now the only refuge in all of Tokyo. They can only shed their disguises and vent their emotions there."
Satsuki picked up the hot tea on the table and took a sip.
"During the 'self-restraint' period, SA KTV and home game console businesses will see explosive growth."
"Have the Itakura team work overtime. Release all the Famicom inventory in the warehouse. The karaoke bars should launch an 'all-night package' service. Let's call it... the 'Meditation Package,' so everyone can meditate in the karaoke bars."
Shuichi looked at his daughter.
On the eve of the national mourning, she was calculating how many coins people's misplaced hormones could be exchanged for.
cruel.
reality.
……
January 7th, 6:33 AM.
Emperor Showa died.
That turbulent, frenzied Showa era, filled with blood and fire, glory and humiliation, cruelty and depravity, officially came to an end at this moment.
in the afternoon.
In the live television broadcast.
Then-Chief Cabinet Secretary Keizo Obuchi, dressed in black mourning clothes, walked solemnly to the podium of the press conference.
He held up a white photo frame.
Two large characters were written on it with a brush:
【Heisei】
Shuichi sat in front of the television, looking at those two words.
"Inner flatness and outer perfection..."
He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes.
"I hope for a peaceful era."
This is his farewell to the old era and his prayer for the new era.
Satsuki, sitting next to him, remained silent. She stared at the two characters as if they were the trademark of a new product about to be released.
Heisei.
The peak of a bubble is the beginning of its collapse.
Satsuki stood up, walked to the telephone, picked up the receiver, and dialed a number.
The head of S-Collection and Uniqlo, Endo and Tadashi Yanai's private line.
"I am Saionji."
Her voice pierced through the funeral music coming from the television.
"Have you watched TV?"
"The era name has been changed. The funeral is about to begin."
The answer came affirmatively from the other end of the phone.
Listen.
Satsuki stared at the calendar on the wall.
"Starting tomorrow, all posters in S-Collection and Uniqlo store windows will be removed and replaced."
"Remove all those red, pink, and bright colors and throw them into the warehouse."
"Change it to black, white, and gray."
"S-Collection is featuring black haute couture cashmere coats and silk maxi dresses. Uniqlo is featuring black turtleneck sweaters and dark gray trousers."
"The design should be minimalist, solemn, and appropriate."
Tadashi Yanai on the other end of the phone seemed hesitant: "Miss, it's the Lunar New Year sales season now. Wouldn't an all-black outfit be too depressing? Sales might..."
"Yanagii."
Satsuki interrupted him.
"Look out the window."
"Tokyo today doesn't need red. All the people of Japan have to attend funerals, keep accounts, and bow. They need a set of clothes that they can wear in public, that express their condolences without losing their dignity."
"We need to sell them the most appropriate 'mourning clothes' while the whole of Tokyo is crying."
Satsuki's fingers gently twirled the telephone cord.
"Tell them that black is the most slimming and classic color. Even after the funeral, they can wear it. This is called 'practical mourning.'"
"Go ahead and do it. I want to see our full-page GG in tomorrow morning's paper."
The title is: "A Tribute to the Back of an Era".
hang up the phone.
Satsuki turned around.
Shuichi was looking at her.
"Even funerals...are they turning into a business?"
"Funerals are the biggest business, Father."
Satsuki walked over and straightened Shuichi's slightly crooked tie.
"The Showa era took away their tears, and it's our responsibility to wipe them away. With the best handkerchiefs."
……
January 10th, night.
Tokyo has entered a period of heightened self-restraint.
The neon lights of Ginza 7-chome have gone out completely. The street, which once flowed with desire and money, now resembles a huge, lifeless corpse. Only the cold wind swirls withered leaves on the empty asphalt road.
Section Chief Sato hunched his shoulders and walked quickly down the cold, damp street. In his hand, he carried a paper bag printed with the word "UNIQLO," inside which were a black turtleneck sweater and dark gray trousers he had just bought—he had to hastily acquire this outfit to match the company's memorial service the next day.
"Really... there's not even a place to eat."
Sato looked at the high-class restaurants along the roadside with wooden signs that read "Temporarily Closed," and his stomach rumbled in protest.
As a mid-level manager at Mitsubishi Corporation, he had planned to enjoy a nice drink at his usual French restaurant tonight after receiving his year-end bonus. But now, the entire city is in mourning, and indulging in food and drink outside is considered an unforgivable act of "disrespect."
"Am I going to have instant noodles again tonight?"
Sato sighed and reluctantly pushed open the glass door of a 7-Eleven.
"Ding-dong—"
A warm breeze wafted in, carrying the aroma of oden. In this desolate city, only these convenience stores remained brightly lit, like lighthouses on a deserted island.
Sato walked towards the freezer, intending to just grab a rice ball to eat.
However, his gaze was drawn to a row of black square boxes in the most conspicuous spot in the freezer.
It was a double-layered food box with a lacquer-like texture, the lid printed with a gold-stamped pattern that reflected a cool and sophisticated light under the fluorescent light. Through the transparent window, you could see that it was filled with Hokkaido king crab meat, sea urchin, and A5 Wagyu beef with clear marbling.
【Imperial Cuisine - Supreme】
Sato glanced at the price tag instinctively.
¥3,000.
"Three thousand yen?!"
Sato gasped. Three thousand yen for a bento box at a convenience store? That's insane! Normally, that's enough for him to drink all night at an izakaya.
He reached out to grab the 300 yen mentaiko rice ball next to him.
But his hand stopped the moment he touched the rice ball.
He remembered the French restaurant that had just closed. If it had been open, he had planned to spend 20,000 yen that night.
"Anyway, we can't go to a restaurant..."
Sato looked at the exquisite black food box, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Besides, after buying such inexpensive clothes, the money saved... it's not unreasonable to treat yourself a little, right?"
A subtle sense of compensation grew wildly in my heart like weeds.
On this night when even laughter is suppressed, at this time when we can't drink and chat outside, I bring this top-notch delicacy back to my apartment, close the door, and enjoy it alone.
This is not luxury.
This is called "necessary comfort".
Sato no longer hesitated. He reached out and picked up the heavy "royal meal".
"Get another bottle of spirits."
He walked to the liquor cabinet and casually grabbed a bottle of Daiginjo sake that he wouldn't normally be willing to buy.
At the checkout counter, the office workers ahead of him were all carrying the same black food containers. They exchanged glances, said nothing, but shared a knowing, wry smile.
That night, the same scene was playing out in convenience stores all over Tokyo.
Countless salarymen like Sato, carrying black Uniqlo paper bags but with luxurious bento boxes worth 3,000 yen in their hands, walk through the gloomy and desolate streets back to their respective nests.
Under that solitary lamp, I opened the lid and saw the crab meat and Wagyu beef filling the dish.
This expensive bento box became their only real and warm outlet in this hypocritical and oppressive era.
……
January 11th, early morning.
SA Group's morning meeting.
The long table was piled high with financial statements from the past three days.
Shuichi looked at the aggregated figures, and even he felt a chill run down his spine. While the entire Japanese economy was experiencing a brief standstill due to "self-restraint," the Saionji family's cash flow had once again reached a record high.
Every time he thinks, "Wow, this is so exaggerated, it's already reached its limit, right?", Satsuki always manages to defy his common sense time and time again.
"That's what 'going with the flow' means."
Satsuki sat at the end of the long table, toying with a dark blue Montblanc pen in her hand.
"Father, grief is also a business."
"As long as the goods we offer make people feel that their consumption is 'appropriate' and 'timely,' they will empty their wallets."
She closed her notebook and stood up.
"Alright, that's enough money."
Satsuki walked to the French windows and looked at the gloomy sky in the distance.
That's the direction of Tokyo Bay.
"It's time to get down to business."
Xiu paused for a moment, then asked, "Is it serious business?"
"Right now, all of Japan's attention is on the Imperial Palace, on the funeral, and on the newly chosen era name."
Satsuki turned around.
"This is the best cover."
"While everyone's attention is diverted, we're going to meet someone."
"Who?"
"Yoshiaki Tsutsumi".
Satsuki uttered this name.
"That 'Emperor Seibu' must be very lonely now. Because of the self-restraint, his Prince Hotel is empty, the ski resort is deserted, and even his political friends are busy putting on a show of grief in front of that old man's coffin."
"At this point, if we approached him with a grand plan for the future, one so ambitious it would make him forget the current gloom..."
Satsuki walked up to the huge map of Tokyo and pressed her finger heavily on the reclaimed land in Odaiba.
"I think he would be happy to have a drink with us."
Xiuichi looked at the red circle on the map.
Odaiba.
That was their next battlefield, and also the springboard for the Saionji family to truly step into the zaibatsu class.
"Prepare the car, Father."
Satsuki straightened her collar. It was a black velvet coat that she had specially chosen to meet that important person. It was dignified, yet carried a hint of sharpness that could not be ignored.
"Let's go tell that emperor."
"The Showa era has ended."
"On the land of Heisei, the Saionji family wants to share the world with him... half of it."
Outside the window, the first ray of sunlight pierced through the gloom that had persisted for days.
Beneath the greyish-white clouds, a black sedan drove out of the gate, like a shark swimming into the deep sea, silently gliding into the Tokyo dawn.