As the small lid of the dobibinmushi was lifted, the aroma of matsutake mushrooms drifted out along with the steam.
Satsuki flipped the lid over and set it aside, pinched the handle of the teapot, and poured a shallow sip of soup into the small cup.
She lowered her head and took a sip.
Then she leaned back and let out a long breath.
"Phew... I am brought back to life."
Sitting opposite her, Shuichi was squeezing sudachi over the saury, and raised his eyes at her words.
"Is the food in New York really that terrible?"
"Hmm... I would not exactly call it terrible."
Satsuki helped herself to another sip.
"Father, you know I do not like things that are too sweet."
"Sweet?"
"Let us put it this way. The second morning I arrived in New York, I ordered a serving of pancakes at the hotel."
She set the small cup down on the table.
"Then they served three of them stacked together, and each piece was th—is thick! On top of that, there was a huge chunk of butter."
She used two fingers to gesture an exaggerated thickness.
"A small pot of maple syrup came on the side. I thought, well, it is just a small pot, I can just dip it as I eat."
"And the result?"
"As a result, right in front of me, the waiter went splash, and poured the whole pot all over it! It pooled in a circle around the edge of the plate, and then he smiled at me super enthusiastically and said 'Enjoy.'"
Satsuki mimicked the waiter's expression, grinned broadly, and then instantly dropped her face.
"Enjoy what? That must have been a lethal dose, right?"
Shuichi's hand squeezing the sudachi paused.
"I remember when you eat kuzukiri at home, you are only willing to dip it in a tiny bit of black honey, and find it cloying if there is too much."
He raised his eyes to look at his daughter.
"Did you finish that plate?"
"How could that be possible, I only took two bites."
Satsuki wrinkled her face.
"Their maple syrup there is completely different from the one at home; it is thick and sticky, cloyingly sweet. With the first bite, my whole body woke up, more effective than coffee."
"With the second bite, I just wanted to drink coffee."
Shuichi lowered his head and continued squeezing the sudachi, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Americans' tongues probably do not look like ours."
"That is why I have been craving this sip of matsutake soup ever since I was on the plane."
Satsuki said as she picked up the teapot again and poured herself a sip.
This was a small washitsu in the annex of the main residence, usually only used when Shuichi dined alone.
Tonight, two sets of tableware were set on the low table, one on each side, with a dish of sudachi and a wooden bucket filled with chestnut rice in the middle.
Satsuki had been back in Tokyo for four days.
For the first three days, she spent almost all her time at the headquarters.
Having been away for over a month, the documents piled up on her desk had to be reviewed one by one, the presidents of several companies lined up waiting for her nod, and Endo even hugged a briefcase twice as thick as usual, following her all the way from nine in the morning until night.
It was not until this evening, after the last document requiring her signature was sent away, that a phone call came from the main residence.
Shuichi only had someone relay a message: Come home for dinner tonight, no documents allowed.
Therefore, Chizuru, who was kneeling diagonally behind Satsuki at this moment, only had a folded hand towel placed beside her.
Shuichi put the squeezed sudachi back into the dish.
"Then let us talk about something appetizing."
He picked up his chopsticks and gently parted the belly of the saury.
"Did you encounter anything interesting this past month?"
Satsuki was using the tip of her chopsticks to trace down the spine of the saury, and thought for a moment when she heard this.
"Something interesting, huh..."
Without stopping her hands, she slowly lifted the entire fish bone out of the fish meat.
"When I was in New York, someone wanted to sell the Plaza Hotel to me."
"Who?"
"Donald Trump."
Shuichi's chopsticks paused for a second.
He had heard this name before. Starting last year, this real estate developer's casinos and airlines had run into trouble one after another, and the money he owed to banks had become a joke in Tokyo's financial circles.
Satsuki placed the fish bone onto the small dish on the side.
"We met at a charity gala. After talking for less than five minutes, he said the Plaza Hotel is the best hotel in the world and wanted to give me a friend's price."
"How did you reply?"
"I asked him, is the friend's price higher or lower than the valuation given to him by the bank?"
Shuichi was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"What did he say?"
Satsuki picked up a piece of cleaned fish meat and dipped it in a bit of grated radish.
"He said he needed to check with his lawyer, looking a bit embarrassed, and picked up his glass ready to leave."
She popped the fish meat into her mouth, chewed twice, and then continued:
"So I called him back."
Shuichi raised his eyes, somewhat surprised.
When would Satsuki ever become interested in an ordinary real estate developer?
"Why did you call him back?"
"I told him, I am not buying the hotel. But if Mr. Trump ever wants to find someone to chat with about how to renegotiate terms with those banks, he can call me."
Satsuki made a gesturing motion of handing something over.
"Then I shoved a business card to him."
Shuichi picked up the fish belly he had just parted, and put it back down.
"Why did you give a business card to someone being chased for debts by banks?"
"Because... he is a very interesting person."
Satsuki poked the chestnut in her bowl with her chopsticks.
"Being put on the spot right to his face, he could turn around and pat others on the shoulder while laughing heartily, shouting louder than anyone. American TV stations love this kind of person the most."
She tilted her head.
"This kind of person, even if they have bad luck this year, will not stay unlucky forever. Leaving a phone number does not cost money."
"Did he call?"
"The next morning, his secretary called the hotel, inviting me to have dinner at his estate in Palm Beach."
"Did you go?"
"How could I have the time?"
Satsuki picked up that chestnut.
"I said that the next time I go to Florida, I will definitely pay a visit."
Shuichi then picked up that piece of fish belly again.
"A business card handed over when someone is down on their luck is much more useful than one handed over when they are glorious."
"Right, right?"
Satsuki stuffed the chestnut into her mouth in a great mood, and scooped another spoonful of rice.
"And California. After finishing things over there, I rented a convertible Mustang and drove a section along Highway 1."
"You drove yourself?"
"Yeah. Dojima had a car in front and a car in the back, sandwiching me in the middle."
Satsuki couldn't help laughing when she mentioned this.
"As a result, halfway through, the highway patrol pulled over Dojima's car. They said it was speeding."
"...Dojima speeding?"
"He was afraid of losing track of me."
Satsuki wore an innocent look.
"That day I was honestly driving at fifty-five miles the whole time."
Shuichi looked at her for a moment, clearly not quite believing this sentence, but didn't press further.
At this moment, Satsuki suddenly thought of something and turned to look behind her.
"By the way Chizuru, where is Mr. Buffett's box of things?"
"It is already been placed in the kitchen, Milady."
"Bring it over, we will eat it after dinner."
Chizuru acknowledged and retreated. Soon she came back carrying a black-and-white paper box, placing it on the corner of the low table.
Shuichi looked at the words on the box.
"See's Candies?"
"Candies from Mr. Buffett's own company."
Satsuki pulled out the card pressed on top of the box and handed it to Shuichi.
"It was delivered to the hotel the day I left New York. It is said to be for you."
Shuichi unfolded the card.
There was only a line of crooked English on it:
She says you only drink tea every day. Please try this. — Warren
Shuichi looked at it for a long time.
"You told him I only drink tea?"
"Isn't that so?"
Satsuki rested her chin in her hands and looked at him.
Shuichi felt a bit uncomfortable being looked at, hurriedly folded the card, put it into the cuff of his kimono, and decided to reflect well afterward on whether he was a bit too traditional.
"What about you, Father? During this month I was away, did anything happen at home?"
Shuichi took a bite of fish and pointed outside the sliding door.
Outside was the courtyard, which had become pitch black, with only a glimmer of light from the stone lantern.
"The second week you left, the osmanthus tree in the courtyard bloomed. It was fragrant for about ten days, and after a rain a few days ago, they all fell."
Satsuki held her rice bowl, turned her head to look at the pitch-black courtyard for a moment.
"...Of all times, it chose when I was not here."
"Flowers don't look at your itinerary."
Shuichi picked up the small cup of dobibinmushi and took a sip.
"So, remember to be at home next year."
"Got it."
Satsuki turned back, picked up a slice of pickled radish, and bit into it with a crunch.
"What about Uncle? He didn't slack off while I was away, did he?"
"Slacking off, no. That memo of yours, he takes it wherever he goes, reads it every day, and even made several copies."
"How did he do?"
"Not bad."
Shuichi thought for a moment.
"He lost three kilograms."
Satsuki's chopsticks paused in mid-air.
"...Father, how on earth did you spur him on?"
"Normally spurring him on."
Shuichi's expression remained normal, and he lowered his head to scrape off the last bit of meat from the edge of the fish bone.
Satsuki stared at him for two seconds.
Kenjiro had worked on various construction sites before, and if even this could make him lose another three kilograms, the definition of "normal" was probably different from ordinary people.
Thus, Satsuki decided not to delve too deeply into an older brother's deep love for his younger brother, and instead thought of another person.
"By the way, what about Endo? Is his health any better?"
"He came back to work last month, but the doctor said he can only work half a day."
Shuichi put the scraped fish meat into his mouth and chewed it slowly until finished.
"As a result, the day before yesterday, I found a stack of Sanyo's due diligence materials in his briefcase."
"And then?"
"Confiscated, and handed over to Kenjiro."
Shuichi put down his chopsticks and picked up his rice bowl.
"So now Kenjiro hugs two sets of things home every night. One is your memo, and the other is Endo's due diligence materials."
Satsuki imagined her uncle hugging two piles of documents, looking a size thinner than when he left the house, and couldn't help laughing out loud.
Two very light knocks sounded outside the paper door.
"Master, Milady."
The door was pulled open, and the butler Fujita knelt at the doorway, bowing before crawling in on his knees.
His hair was completely white, but his movements were very steady. On the tea tray, besides a freshly brewed teapot, there was also a thick dark blue cloth-covered booklet pressed underneath.
He first replaced the bottomless teacup by Shuichi's side, refilled it with roasted tea, turned to Satsuki's side, and finally placed the booklet with both hands beside Shuichi's side.
"The things ordered by the Master have been brought."
Satsuki's gaze followed and fell over.
"What is that?"
Shuichi didn't answer, only pushing the booklet toward her.
Satsuki put down her chopsticks and turned to the first page.
It was a clipped newspaper article, pasted neatly, with all four corners flattened with tape, and the date and newspaper name written in fountain pen in the lower right corner.
It was the Nikkei, and the headline above took up three whole lines.
Salomon Extraordinary General Meeting of Shareholders, Saionji proposes Buffett to serve as interim chairman.
She turned back.
Asahi's, Yomiuri's, Mainichi's, as well as facsimile copies of several English newspapers. The further she turned, the longer the headlines and the larger the photos.
The last few pages were all about California, and one photo took up almost half a page—it was her standing under the steps of the Sacramento State Capitol building, shaking hands with the governor.
The sun was very big that day. In the photo, she was squinting, smiling so stiffly at the corners of her mouth.
Satsuki stared at the photo for two seconds and silently closed the booklet.
"This photo is so ugly."
"Is that so? I think it is quite cute."
Shuichi took the booklet back, turned back to those last few pages, and lowered his head to take another look.
"In other photos, you always smile like you are sitting at a negotiation table."
"Only this one, where you couldn't open your eyes from the sun, makes you look like an eighteen-year-old girl."
After he finished speaking, he lowered his head and glanced at the photo again.
The girl in the newspaper stood under California's dazzling sunlight, with the State Capitol building behind her, and the governor and a group of people in suits standing beside her.
The long report below the photo talked about capital, investment, employment, and a new city that had not yet broken ground.
Shuichi looked at it for a moment, but only reached out to gently flatten that page.
Satsuki pouted and picked up her chopsticks again.
"The food is going to get cold."
"Yeah."
Shuichi acknowledged and picked up his chopsticks again as well.
Outside the paper door, October's night breeze blew over from the courtyard.
The dobibinmushi on the table was still giving off a bit of steam.